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herenortherenearnorfar · 4 years

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Final graduation ficlet (which got quite long). A-Qing lives (sort of) and channels ghosts while living out her fashionista dreams. Jiang Cheng is identifiable due to his clothing choices. Light violence and zombies.

The best thing about living in Koi Tower is the clothing. Silk that runs like water between her hands, brocade heavy with embroidery, jewelry that chimes and sings as she moves. She doesn’t feel heat or cold, can’t sense gentle changes in pressure or even most pain. There’s still enough perception in her fingers to map out the bamboo grove and song birds stitched on her favorite dress and feel the whorls of gold and inset jade on her new bracelet.

After the first impolite insinuation about their friendship Jin Ling stopped buying her gifts more excessive than those he gave to the rest of his friends. Ouyang Zizhen, who can describe the grandeur of Lanling’s markets so clearly she can see the hawkers and jewel-bright fancies in her mind’s eye, has been thoroughly scolded by his father on her behalf so many times that they’ve regretfully halted their shopping trips.

Wei Wuxian makes up for it. He doesn’t have money of his own, but his husband is rich and lets him do whatever he wants, and what he wants is to spoil A-Qing whenever he’s in town.

He calls her cousin (biao zhi mei, an affection which makes several martial relationships familial and she thinks retroactively enforces at least two adoptions) and takes her places the boys are too scared to go. Good company though they usually are, they’re rich kids to the core. The streets A-Qing grew up on, back alleys and muddy side streets, are too lowly for little princes. They aren’t like Wei-qianbei, who can banter with street walkers and haggle with counterfeiters. His company is a welcome escape from the pompous brats in Koi Tower. Together with Wen Ning they walk the streets, wearing high collars and low hats for disguise. They sniff about the food vendors until oil and salt fill A-Qing’s throat and coat the remnants of her tongue. Wei Wuxian buys her trinkets, little squares of silk and jangling bracelets of gilt and enamel, louder and more delightful than the demure ostentation of the Jin. When she was young and dreamed of being rich she wanted bracelets up to her elbows, not “restraint” or “taste”.

At the end of every outing Wei Wuxian hands her a little parcel. “From your shushu by the water” he says, as if she has any idea who that is. They’re nice gifts through. Scarves and robes in fine cotton and brocade. There’s stitched florals and ribbons. She makes Jin Ling describe them to her and he reluctantly tells her about violet and turquoise geometric patterns, waxed pale into fabric. There’s one overrobe she especially likes— dark blue, Jin Ling says, with a cracking pattern like mud under the sun, like lightning, like the death lines on her own skin. She can feel the stares on her when she wears it.

The old men certainly stare when she slams open the door and begins tapping her way into the conference room, though she can’t tell whether it’s the crackling midnight robe, the green jade pins in her hair, or the fact that she’s here at all that has them so startled. That’ll teach them to try to distract her with poetry and fancies. As soon as the fine cultivator ladies, who normally scorn Koi Tower’s corpse, swept her away, she knew something was wrong.

It’s bold of them to try to ambush Jin Ling in his own home. They’re going to regret it.

“Xiao-guniang,” Jin Ling says, sounding relieved. A servant takes her arm and guides her over to the table, and A-Qing doesn’t snap at them. She’s learned to pick her battles. “I was just about to send for you. These kind elders have quite the suggestion for me and I wanted your input on it.”

“Is this really the place for a young... lady?” come the protestation.

“My shibo thinks highly of her judgement.” Jin Ling says, leaving everyone to put together in their own heads who his shibo is.

That stirs up whispers. It always does. A Sect Leader, almost grown, consulting her? A corpse under the Yiling Patriarch’s protection, a barely civilized street rat. They might have given her Xiao Xingchen’s name (it still hurts to hear it spoken, still scrapes every time someone calls her Xiao Qing, though even Song-daozhang insists he would have wanted her to have it) and a backstory worthy of tears (’she survived Xue Yang!’ Ouyang Zizhen would cry, passionate and sweet, and Jingyi would add a story of her bravery so embroidered it was unrecognizable) but she’s still a parentless urchin. A girl. A dead thing. There are a dozen reasons she shouldn’t be here.

Jin Ling has the full support of the Jiang and the Lan behind him though, and Nie-zongzhu always compliments her accessories. None of the other, weaker sects can do a thing about it. Politics is a lot like living on the street; the big people make the rules and everyone else puts up with it. The old coots make some noises about propriety, forcing chaperones and moderating the affection A-Qing and her friends can show each other in public, but they can’t get rid of her or mitigate her influence on their young ruler.

At best they can insinuate, and since Jin Ling started making eyes at the visiting cultivator from Dali those insinuations have had increasingly little weight.

What are their words? A-Qing signs, even though she knows perfectly well why they’re ganging up on Jin Ling in a side room. She won it out of Duanmu-zongzhu’s wife, who was sent to distract her. It’s amazing what people will say in the presence of a mute girl-- they think she’s deaf too and talk quite freely. You would think they’d be more careful, since she is, by their own accusation, a conniving abomination, but for all their fear they never quite take her seriously.

“They had some suggestions about the salt trade.” Jin Ling is doing an admirable job of playing the mature diplomat. “Surely they can explain it better themselves.”

“We merely wished--” one of them starts stammering, and another one takes over. “We thought to inform Jin-zongzhu of the opportunity to centralize control of the salt market. The Jin, Qin, and Lan together hold most of the salt marshes, and Jin-zongzhu’s great-aunt ruling in Meishan mean he would be able to get the western brine wells to cooperate with a taxation pact. It would be very beneficial to both the sects and the merchants!”

“They want to put limits on who can buy and sell salt, and they’re willing to levy a tax to make it worth our while.” She can practically hear Jin Ling’s posture, arms crossed, defensive. “Xiao-guniang, I don’t suppose you have any thoughts on that?”

I’ve walked in salt villages, A-Qing replied, leaning her cane against the table so her hands can move furiously fast. It’s not a good life. Brine and heat. If they could only sell to a few merchants they would be underpaid. No choices.

(A maid helpfully murmurs a translation of her words to the rest of the room. Few people have bothered to learn the language she now uses, the one she pieced together with the help of her friends.)

Jin Ling hums. “That makes sense.”

“There’s no reason to hesitate on the behalf of some peasants,” a very bold voice complains. “Their state won’t be improved by empty sympathy.”

“They’re just boilers, of no concern to you Jin-zongzhu. We treat them well.”

Oh. Oh.

She was going to hold back, for Jin Ling’s sake, but now she’s angry. Who of you is Hu Anshi? she demands, mouthing out the sounds of the name and punctuating it with the bracketed meaning (beard, safe, stone) over and over until it’s duly translated.

Reluctantly, one of the many voices in front of her says, “I am, xiaojie.”

Even with her ever sharpening sense (honed by cultivation that she came into late and kicking) it’s hard to differentiate him from the rest of the horde of weakly pulsing qi before her. They all have ghosts attached to them, hovering resentment like a cloud about their heads. Rich men attract desperate hatred better than anyone else. But she thinks she can single out one fuzzy figure with a particularly heavy load of sins and a familiar tinged energy over his shoulder,

A-Qing takes up her bamboo cane and strikes it once on the ground. I talked to your ghosts, she signs with her free hand. They had a lot to say.

That silences them.

Jin Ling inhales sharply and moves closer to her side, hand grazing her sleeve in support. When she shakes her head he withdraws, leaving her alone on in the cool air of the Koi Tower, shivering in her fine cotton and silk. Shivering because she’s letting the change come over her, letting the whispering, angry ghosts attached to Hu Anshi’s back have their say.

It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when she took up this route of cultivation. Mediumship is... frowned upon by the sort of people who bear swords and seek immortality. The common people like it though and before she knew Xiao Xingchen, A-Qing made the acquaintance of a number of temple diviners and spirit writers. Some of them even offered her apprenticeships-- blind girls made for good optics. Spirit specialists willing to take on a pickpocket without the slightest inclination towards ghosts were unfortunately untrustworthy by definition. She never took them up on the offers.

Then she died and, like many of the restless dead, needed a way to communicate. Lan Sizhui played her Inquiry a thousand times in those first weeks, to ask her if she was comfortable, to field questions from the other giggling Lans. Eventually A-Qing memorized the song and began to play it on her own, tapping it out with bamboo against earth and fingers against wood. The spirit language, limited in form and structure, was easy to pick up and didn’t need a tongue or eyes.

When you played Inquiry, ghosts answered. A-Qing didn’t mention the questions at first, just did her clumsy best to give offerings to those whose names she learned, to give justice to those small inequalities her late night listening uncovered.

Wei-qianbei, who had what he called a “vested interest” in her wellbeing, learned about it eventually. He was the one who found her in Caiyi town (hidden from Lan and Jin elders alike while some ridiculous politics happened) fighting off possession by the little girl who’d been murdered two doors down a year ago. He was the one who helped her curse the wrongdoer, soothe the restless soul, and settle back into her own cold skin. After that he taught her Inquiry, and how to use the meditations Xiao Xingchen had happily guided her through to solidify her presence and strengthen her energy output. If she was going to get possessed, he suggested, she should be purposeful about it.

He didn’t teach her how to use her corpse strength to drag evildoers into the light. It came naturally enough and only needed a few suggestions from Wen-qianbei and Song-daozhang.

After that things had sort of... spiralled. By the time she went to join Jin Ling, then Jin-zongzhu, in Lanling a few months later, A-Qing had found herself an avatar of vengeance for any number of unquiet spirits. The living consulted her too, when there was bad luck or poltergeists, hauntings or incomplete burials.

As it happened, the highest halls of cultivation have hungry ghosts in need of justice too.

She lived in the north, in a village with no name. A-Qing says as icy incorporeal fingers close around her neck. They were poor and made money by selling salt, because one woman could bring up enough brine in a day to provide a whole family with salt for a year. And it paid. Until one day the merchants came to town with you at their head.

You have to give Zu’er, the maid who’s translating, credit. Even though the hand language drops lots of in-between words by necessity and requires creative substitutions-- earth for salt, sky for day-- she always picks up on A-Qing’s meaning. And she doesn’t flinch as smoke, hot and roiling, begins to peel off A-Qing, which speaks to her nerve if nothing else.

A-Qing taps her staff again and begins drumming out the song of opening, of offering.

Under your guidance they wouldn’t pay them enough to buy firewood from the inland where trees grew, or rice from the flood plains that weren’t salted beyond survival. Salt worth a fortune sold for scraps.

So they starved. Working, salt crusted, they hungered and hated you.

Footsteps echo on the cold marble floor.

“Bar the door,” Jin Ling says next to her, mild and spiteful. Whatever spirit he channels in clan politics, it’s a vicious one. “I think everyone should hear this.”

So a woman took salt on her back and went to sell it someplace else. And who did she meet on the road but the merchants? Do you remember what you did?

“She’s a witch and a liar,” someone, maybe even Hu Anshi claims. A-Qing is too deep in to care. The ghost, who came to her instantly when she played Inquiry this afternoon, looking for answers about this purported plot to head a monopoly, is particularly insistent and clever. She’s been following Hu Anshi for a long time, too weak to strike, too smart to get caught by protective charms and spirit dispelling talismans.

Now she finally has a chance to speak, in a sense of the word.

There is a complication to channeling without a tongue or eyes. She can get around just fine in this body of hers but spirits are rather less experienced. Without Sizhui or another Lan expert most can’t make their wishes known. So A-Qing has to get creative.

As much as she hates to admit it, she knows who she learned this mean showsmanship from. Three years with Xue Yang teaches you a lot about drama.

Cane held out like a divining sword, she advances, letting the spirit half sunk in her flesh and a faint memory of the room’s layout guide her around the table towards the bundle of quaking men. Like cowards, they scatter before her, not even trying to fight back (just as well; she can’t be killed but a sword in the stomach doesn’t make anyone happy). The ghost over her shoulder knows which target she wants to pick and swings about as frightened bodies swirl around her. Hu Anshi might be able to dodge but he can’t hide, soon she has him cornered.

His friends abandon him quickly, fleeing to the edges of the room as she advances. When her bamboo strikes his shaking legs, she gives in and lets the ghost have its way.

The problem with possession is that you have very little control. Locked away in the cool dark of her own flesh, A-Qing can’t even see what’s happening. Jin Ling is there, though, with his Clarity Bell, so she’s comfortable sitting back.

She gave the ghost pretty clear directions; no permanent damage, show how you died. At worst she’ll choke him for a bit before Jin Ling snaps her out of it.

For the sake of her friend, A-Qing tries to be subtle about her skills. Jin Ling helped her form her sign language, stuck with her even in the earliest days when the other frightened juniors were suggesting they report her to the Chief Cultivator, sent her long letters that Lan Jingyi would sprint down from Gusu to read out loud to her. He brought her here, gave her pretty dresses, listened when she talked about hungry children and towns that cultivators never visit. Listened when she talked about frightened female ghosts, begging for their lives, and murdered servants who have never gotten justice. Even his dog has been kind to her, has guided her through gardens and chased away bullies while Jin Ling sat in stuffy rooms doing grownup work. In deference to his family and responsibilities she doesn’t swear even when people act like bastards, she doesn’t run, she doesn’t summon evil spirits indoors without cause.

Sometimes she wonders how long their friendship (bound by oaths though it is) will last. In the three years they’ve known each other he’s gotten tall and deep-voiced, while she’s stayed the same. By the calendar she’s a decade older than him but she’ll never be fully grown. A-Qing is a creature of boundaries, not a girl and not a woman, not living and not dead. Not a destitute orphan anymore but not made for places like this.

More accurately, places like this aren’t made for her. It’s a shame because they clearly need her badly. Who else will give the ghosts and forgotten people a voice?

When the Clarity Bell finally shakes the ghost out of her body, she’s throttling a man with exquisite delicacy, holding his warm and moving throat like it’s the finest china ware. This is how she died, A-Qing thinks. You strangled her and left her body by the roadside. You took her salt and sold it and her family starved.

There’s a heavy hand on her shoulder. “That’s quite enough, I think.” says Jiang-zongzhu, whose voice she bothers to remember.

A-Qing lets the man fall to the floor, gasping even though she barely choked him.

“I told you all to stop talking about your salt plot,” Jiang-zongzhu is shouting above her. “Now you’ve tried to convince Jin-zongzhu alone to go along with your little price fixing scheme? Pathetic. I’ve heard enough of it. Get out. Don’t ever bring it up again.”

There’s a desperate skittering that A-Qing barely notices in the post-possession fog. She assumes the room clears.

“We’ll send the accusations of foul play to the local authorities?” When faced with his uncle Jin Ling always phrases orders as questions.

“A good idea,” Jiang-zongzhu agrees. “Send some cultivators too-- it’s outside of our wheelhouse but there’s bound to be some resentment built up if a merchant syndicate has been running wild through the marshes. Where did you say they were active, Xiao-guniang?”

He’s always polite to her. At first it was a disgusted sort of politeness, a politeness that suggested that she didn’t belong anywhere near his precious nephew. Over time it’s mellowed into frosty gentility and the occasional hand on her arm when she’s lost.

Qing province? she shrugs. South Bo Sea coast.

Signing proper nouns is like playing charades. For qing she points to herself (the words are close enough in pronounciation) for bo she taps her staff. It must make sense though because Jiang-zongzhu doesn’t even wait for Jin Ling’s swift interpretation. “That’s closest to Laoling. Qin Cangye has had a lot on his plate lately. Best to send a letter and some of your men.”

“I guess I should go do that. And I have to reassure the sect leaders I’m not doing demonic cultivation again.” A-Qing frowns and Jin Ling hastily amends, “You did great though.”

“Great is pushing it,” Jiang-zongzhu snaps. “You’re getting a reputation.”

Jin Ling, whose voice is already by the door, isn’t impressed. “They can get over themselves.”

Then it’s just her and Jiang-zongzhu in the room. One heartbeat, one steady warm core. A-Qing turns to go, only to be caught by the arm.

“Thank you.” Jiang-zongzhu says slowly. “You’ve been a good friend to him.”

A-Qing remembers the courtyard with the lotus pond, where she and Jin Ling and Lan Jingyi swore to be siblings in the eyes of the gods. (Though they love their other friends, they were excluded for practical reasons. Sizhui is already related to all of them and needed no further binding. Zizhen is a little in love with everyone and Jin Ling claims it’s bad form to sleep with sworn siblings, so for them to keep their options open he had to be excepted.) It’s a secret oath; Jin Ling doesn’t need the political complication of open sworn brotherhood. It’s still binding.

I try.

Jiang-zongzhu always smells like thunderstorms when he’s stressed. Right now all she can smell is the cloying Jin incense and a sweetness of lotuses. “Keep trying. And don’t be afraid to send for me again if you hear they’re ganging up on him.”

As he lets go of her her hand brushes his trailing sleeve. In an instant her fingers graze over silk brocade and fine patterned cotton. The texture is familiar and she instinctively grabs the fabric to feel the delicate embroidery and the stiff, thick woven cotton that still smells ever so slightly of wax. She can imagine the patterns inked on, maybe lotuses? Greenery? The colors are definitely shades of purple, blue and green.

A-Qing smiles as Jiang-zongzhu pulls away and stalks out.

The best thing about Koi Tower is the clothing, which sits against her skin and reminds her of the people who have taken her in.

The second best thing is getting to terrorize entitled rich people.

#the untamed #fanfic #graduation ficlets #a-qing #jin ling #jiang cheng

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curiosity-killed · 4 years

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a bow for the bad decisions

canon-divergent AU from ep. 24 (on ao3)

They don’t talk more of it that night and by the time they arrive in Lanling, Jiang Cheng has all but forgotten the conversation. He can feel the wards still tethered like a thumb and index finger around his left wrist, even from this far away. There’s no tug like Sandu or Zidian, just a gentle pressure. Wei Wuxian claps him on the shoulder as they separate before the opening and Jiang Cheng draws in a steadying breath before walking over to the other sect leaders. It’s hardly the first time they’ve split up at these official events, but it is the first time Jiang Cheng’s been alone at one. Before, his father had always been at his side when they met with other sect leaders and heirs. In the war, Wei Wuxian had dutifully attended all those strategy meetings, the obsidian blade at Jiang Cheng’s back. Now, he is acutely aware of his own youth as he greets Jin Guangshan and then Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen. Lan Xichen’s the closest to his own age and technically only became sect leader a few months before Jiang Cheng, but he’s been acting sect leader for so long that the title seems to fit as well as any robe. Jiang Cheng finds himself approaching Nie Mingjue instead.

“Chifeng-zun, Yunmeng Jiang thanks you for allowing us to host Young Master Nie this last month,” he says, saluting. “His presence was welcome.” The words feel awkwardly floral from his mouth, and part of him expects Nie Mingjue to laugh at his attempt at propriety. Instead, he accepts the thanks politely, if a little stiff. “Qinghe Nie has long valued our friendship with Yunmeng Jiang,” he says. “Our fathers trusted in one another, and as we return to peace, we would reaffirm that bond.” If all the rest of his life is to be spent trading polite formalities with men older than him, Jiang Cheng thinks he might run off and become a rogue cultivator after all. He’s never had jiejie’s grace nor Wei Wuxian’s charisma. Nie Mingjue huffs out a noise that’s somewhere between a grunt and a laugh as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Last time you and Wei Wuxian visited the Unclean Realm, he promised my second a duel,” he remarks. “He could come fulfill that promise now.” Surprise and hope twine through Jiang Cheng’s chest at the invitation. He doesn’t know how to say that Wei Wuxian will never fulfill that challenge now, but they can address that when they have to. For now, it’s a start, an opening to build the relationships they so badly need. “Maybe he and Huaisang can remember their forms together,” Nie Mingjue mutters. Swallowing, Jiang Cheng salutes quickly. “Wei Wuxian would be honored to learn from the Nie sect’s example,” he says. It isn’t wholly a lie, even if he doesn’t mean Wei Wuxian will be using Suibian any time soon. Wei Wuxian has always had a voracious hunger for knowledge, and they both spent a mortifying summer of their adolescence infatuated with Nie Mingjue the year Jiang Cheng turned thirteen. If nothing else, a visit would give Jiang Cheng a chance to tease Wei Wuxian relentlessly. “Da-ge, Jiang-zongzhu,” Lan Xichen greets with a smile, joining them. Nie Mingjue shifts subtly, opening the space at his side. “Zewu-jun,” Jiang Cheng greets. “I am looking forward to seeing Yunmeng Jiang’s archery firsthand,” Lan Xichen says. “I recall both Jiang-zongzhu and Young Master Wei made an impression at the last discussion conference.” Wei Wuxian was the one who made an impression at that conference, sailing into first as if he’d been shooting since he could walk. Jiang Cheng had been pleased to beat Jin Zixuan to second, earning his father’s hand briefly on his shoulder. “It will be good to see the competition in a friendly air,” Jiang Cheng says instead of that. “The competition will only be between your brothers, I think,” Nie Mingjue says. “I can’t remember the last time Huaisang touched a bow.” “Mingjue,” Lan XIchen scolds, fond. “You are too hard on a-Sang.” Nie Mingjue shoots him a skeptical look as if to ask which of our brothers didn’t even fight in the war? Jiang Cheng politely averts his gaze and doesn’t comment. He knows without needing it confirmed that Wei Wuxian has been practicing increasingly absurd trick shots with their shidis over the last couple weeks. Before the sects are announced, Jin Guangyao arrives to politely usher them to their seats, and Jiang Cheng sits feeling newly settled and a little more comfortable than he was at the start. He might even enjoy this after all. The sects process in, Nie then Lan then Jiang. Wei Wuxian walks at the head of their disciples, head high and already half-smiling. They’d wrestled him into a robe of bruised blue and black, still Wei Wuxian but clearly part of Yunmeng Jiang, and seeing him in front of their shidis, Jiang Cheng feels a surge of pride well up in his chest. This is his clan. This is his brother. His work, his struggle and triumph. He lifts his chin and lets the warmth suffuse him. He tries to keep his face when jiejie arrives with the Jin entourage, but he can’t help smiling a little at her. It’s just – a lot, all at once. This feeling, this sudden bloom of hope and tentative belief in the future. Their sect is going to be strong once again, and they’ll be together to lead it, and it will work out. He’d forgotten, in the years between his parents’ deaths and Nightless City, what hope feels like. He’d been running on survival all that time, the dagger-edge drive of necessity. There had been plans and expectations, yes, the steps along a path laid out by need. There had been none of this, this bright-lined smiling thing that buds tentatively in his chest. Then Jin Guangyao brings out his surprise. Tension ripples through the crowd like a contagion, hands tightening on bows and eyes widening at the Wen prisoners traipsed out. In his periphery, he sees Wei Wuxian step forward, tension running through him like a bow bent to its limits. He shakes his head slightly, quickly, and can see the fight on Wei Wuxian’s lips. They can’t afford a mess. “What is the meaning of this?” Nie Mingjue demands. There’s a rustle through the assembly, and Wei Wuxian eases back into line. “It’s only meant to be a challenge for the participants, da-ge,” Jin Guangyao says with a reassuring smile. “These prisoners fought under Wen Ruohan against us in the war.”

Unease slithers under Jiang Cheng’s skin. The prisoners all wear Wen red, but they’re dirty, unkempt. Dirt and grime cover them and the spare patches of their skin that are visible are pale and gaunt. He swallows. Wei Wuxian has done trickier things than shoot a single arrow over someone’s head. Jiang Cheng knows his aim, can call up a dozen memories of Wei Wuxian shooting the small black pupil out of a high-flying kite’s eye. It’s not his aim that worries him. “These are prisoners, not props,” Nie Mingjue continues. “Just treatment requires they be treated appropriately.” “Nie Mingjue,” Jin Guangshan calls from his seat across the dais, “are you defending these people who killed your father?” It’s too late in the season for frost, but Jiang Cheng feels something cold and biting creep across his skin. His hands tighten into fists in his skirts. Jin Guangshan never fought in the war, barely lent any forces at all, but his has been the sect to surge into the gap left by Wen Ruohan’s fall. The Jin sect is powerful in a way none of the others are: its leader is older, more experienced; its citadel was never burnt or besieged; its forces barely suffered a dent in all the fighting. Jiang Cheng bites his tongue. “The man who killed my father is dead,” Nie Mingjue says. “As Lianfang-zun can attest. These prisoners belong in their camps, as you agreed, not out here as target practice.” He’s still seated, but there’s a thrumming tension in his broad shoulders and the stiffness of his back. “Perhaps it would be better to remove the prisoners,” Lan Xichen suggests delicately. Between Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue, he holds himself carefully poised, in a precarious balance between his sworn brothers. Jin Guangyao wears a nervous smile still, hands folded before him like a lifeline. “The Nie sect will not shoot,” Nie Mingjue declares. Jiang Cheng’s fingers tighten. “Da-ge—” Jin Guangyao starts, placating. “Lives are not playthings,” Nie Mingjue interjects, even. “The Nie sect will not compromise its principles for fanfare.” There’s a soft sigh beside Jiang Cheng, and Lan Xichen rises to salute Jin Guangshan. “Respectfully, Sect Leader Jin, it is against Gusu Lan principles to risk others’ lives impulsively,” he says. His voice is as mellow and gentle as ever, and Jiang Cheng almost misses the meaning underneath. Two sects are standing against Jin Guangshan, however politely. He hesitates, sprinting through calculations he hadn’t expected to ever do. He stands and bows. “Yunmeng Jiang respectfully recuses itself from the competition,” he says. For a moment, his torso still dipped in deference toward Jin Guangshan, he thinks there will be a fight. The cultivation world has stood in careful alliance since the burning of Lotus Pier. The memory of conflict is still too fresh, wounds still scabbed and not yet scarred. His heart gallops, wild and terrified in his chest. “Ah please, brothers, Jiang-zongzhu,” Jin Guangyao says quickly. “The competition was only a ceremony. Clearly all cultivators here are more than capable of the hunt. Let us just begin, yes?” It’s not an apology, not quite an admission of a mistake, but it’s enough to at least soothe the tensions rising around them. The sects disperse with quiet murmurs, that uneasiness still threading interstitial through Jiang Cheng’s ribs. He crosses the grounds to Wei Wuxian and their shidis at just a careful enough pace that no one could accuse him of running to his brother. “Well that was exciting,” Wei Wuxian remarks when he’s close enough.

The grin he breaks out is a little brittle, too much tooth showing, and his hand has curled tight around Chenqing. “We don’t need any fights breaking out,” Jiang Cheng warns. Releasing Chenqing, Wei Wuxian heaves a sigh and waves his hand as he turns toward the gates. His shoulders are a little stiff, but there’s none of that snarling anger Jiang Cheng saw in the war. Everyone will surely be on edge until the hunt is properly underway. The knowledge isn’t the reassurance he’d like it to be. “Yes, yes, I know. I’ll be on my best behavior, Jiang Cheng,” he says, shooting a taunting grin back. “Go on, don’t wait around for me. I’ll see you on the mountain.” He waves an absent hand back at Jiang Cheng in farewell. For a moment, as he passes under the shadow of the walls, black bleeds the blue from his robes and he is only a shadow, a sliver of night, walking away. Jiang Cheng reaches absently for his wrist, curling his hand around the tether of the wards. They pulse twice, a familiar heartbeat, and lie still.

#mdzs #the untamed #chen qing ling #untamed fic #yunmeng shuangjie #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #my writing #nmj and i are NOT agreeing lmao

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carolyncaves · 4 years

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Day 23 is Earth, and I almost went for some light modern AU thing, but then I remembered I was trying to work on character creation, so instead I did some thinking about Zhang Meihua. 1275 words, NHS x OC, the plot thickens. Follows this.

In poetry, the earth was often depicted with warm and gentle demeanor. It was green and damp and loamy, the font of life, all sturdy wise trees and delicate daffodils and the supportive ground beneath mankind’s feet.

Qinghe was in the far north, where it was cold in the winter and harsh every time of year. Surrounded by the bare, unyielding stone of Qinghe and the walls of the Unclean Realm, Nie Huaisang had always thought differently. He had a great deal of affection for his home, to be sure. He was just well aware the earth was as indifferent to human life as any other natural force – cultivation, time, the rain, or the hearts of small-minded men.

Nie Huaisang had managed to endure the endless talking and discussing and work of the cultivation conference, and more than a little ribbing from Wei Wuxian in particular, and now it was time for the part of the event he’d actually been looking forward to – the banquet afterward. He always looked forward to banquets – the good ones were fun, and the bad ones were fun in a different way – but this time in particular, he was anxious to discover whether Zhang Meihua would make an appearance.

He’d been trying to size her up in his mind’s eye since the accession party at Jinlintai. Their meeting had been so brief. He was hoping today he would be given a little more to work with. She would certainly attend – she wouldn’t have gone to the great effort of arranging her previous spectacle if she didn’t have a longer game in mind.

Sure enough, she arrived with the other minor guests. She was seated in the outed edges of the Jin sect’s sphere of influence, because her family was sworn to the service of Jinlintai. She was wearing muted colors today, pale yellow with dusty lavender. Before, she’d been trying to stand out, even among the gaudy characters of Lanling – now, she was trying to look like she could blend in at Qinghe.

She was unsubtle. That much was obvious even from her debut. She wore her intentions on her sleeve, as it were. But she was astute, discerning, nuanced, patient. She didn’t immediately seek out his gaze. In fact, he had trouble catching her eye at all, and she made no move to approach him.

Nie Huaisang lasted about half a stick of incense’s time before he asked a servant to call her over.

Only when the servant leaned down and spoke in her ear did Zhang Meihua turn her gaze in his direction – and it was with an easy and open smile. She rose immediately and wove her way across the hall to meet him.

“Sect Leader Nie,” she said, bowing cordially.

“Zhang-san-guniang. Our meeting in Lanling made a very strong impression on me,” Nie Huaisang said, and he was almost certain he didn’t imagine the corners of her mouth turn a little further upward in amusement at that. “How are your elder sisters? I have been trying to remember them, from my visit to your home. We didn’t talk much, my group was mostly served by your household’s servants and then we departed, but of course your family greeted me politely. If I remember correctly, one had a young child on her arm?”

“That would have been my eldest sister, Lanhua.”

“Was her husband away? I don’t recall if I met him.”

“You did not, Sect Leader. Her husband revealed himself to be a man of poor character several years ago, deserting her and their child. Lanhua is the head of our family.”

“Ah, I see, I see, I’m sorry for mentioning it. Tell me about your second sister, then. She looked wan and carried a handkerchief – was she ill? If so, I hope she has recovered.”

“Thank you for your wishes, Sect Leader. My second sister, Juhua, is indeed ill, though it is not the sort of illness one recovers from. Fortunately there is a doctor in Gaojia Town who treats her and she is able to live her life reasonably well.”

“Ah, I’m sorry, terribly sorry, never mind then. Let me instead compliment you on your family’s beautiful manor and wish you perpetual peace and prosperity.”

She said nothing in response to that, and her easy smile did not quite slip, but Nie Huaisang faintly began to remember the particulars of the political situation in the Menghe River Valley. A robber baron had established himself through friendship ties with Jin Guangshan and then extorted his way into ever-increasing control of trade under Jin Guangyao’s corruption, using his stranglehold to leech more and more power and money into his own pockets. It was likely the Zhang family was facing financial and political pressure, especially if the first sister had a child to support and the second a chronic illness that required ongoing treatment and they only had sisters and no brothers to work with.

Suddenly, Zhang-san-guniang’s motivations were cast in an entirely more illuminating light. Was she here to persuade him to take action to help restore her region’s former balance of power and consequently her family’s prosperity, or to seduce him into a marriage which would secure her family regardless? Perhaps either of the two would suffice, and she was intending to cast her lots widely and see what came up.

It was a little hurtful, albeit in a foolish way, to realize she was interested in more than him as person. At the same time, Nie Huaisang remembered acutely what it was to be a younger sibling and find the weight of one’s family’s survival resting unexpectedly on one’s shoulders. He remembered his brother growing more and more unstable, and feeling helpless under the impending weight.

He remembered his death, and being the only one left to avenge it.

He looked as if for the first time at Zhang Meihua – with her carefully-considered robes, likely bought specifically for this occasion, and her nearly-free smile, and her cunningly crafted approach – and he saw her a little more sharply. “You know, Zhang-san-guniang, I think maybe you and I have a lot in common with each other. Please sit next to me and let us talk some more this evening.”

He said it for several reasons. He was hardly just going to marry this person – he had no mercenary reason of his own to agree to it, and he didn’t know her at all – but if they could work out something together instead of in opposition, Nie Huaisang would not be opposed to helping her. Favors were bought with favors, and a favor from Zhang Meihua might come in handy someday.

Because he remembered the fan she’d presented to him at Jinlintai, and the words written on it which had struck him like a saber to the chest. Zhang Meihua had to be truly clever to have discovered that – and for all she’d assured him she hadn’t meant it as a threat, she did in fact want something from him, and there would be consequences for her if she didn’t get it. She had the ability to weaponize that secret if she decided to – to flip and suddenly hold it like a knife to his throat.

Perhaps that was all part of her calculation. She’d given him no choice but to take her seriously in one respect – so he would also be forced to entertain her seriously in the other.

Nie Huaisang was well accustomed to cultivating his formidable allies closely and keeping his most dangerous enemies even closer. He had to admit he was tantalizingly curious which of those Zhang Meihua would turn out to be.

#untamed spring fest #cql #the untamed #mdzs #oc #please forgive my attempt at names for these sisters #they're probably terrible #i'm picking place names off google maps #would it be zhang-san-guniang or zhang-xiao-guniang?#pay no attention to my cultural inexpertise #nhs #zmh #my fic

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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I am *endlessly* curious about how Wei Wuxian ended up at the Cloud Recess, and very satisfied my internal suspicion that the Lan and the Jiang were busy rebuilding their power/plotting a coup was right. Though I'm now curious about their reaction to 'Meng Yao is being kept around, and as Empress at that'.

spontaneous fic extra for Good Help - ao3 link

Good news! one of Nie Huaisang’s letters started, which was never good news. My brother has finally become gainfully employed! He will no longer be a burden on society, a good-for-nothing that does nothing but idle his days away, bringing shame upon our family name.

Wei Wuxian blinked down at the letter. “Jiang Cheng,” he said. “Did I manage to hit my head and wake up in a world where Nie Mingjue is not the Empress?”

“No,” Jiang Cheng said, looking bored. He was officially there on Jin sect business, though everyone politely pretended that he wasn’t very clearly there to see Wei Wuxian or, for those not in the know, sent by his husband, who had virtually no cutsleeve tendencies at all, to get him somewhere that wasn’t Lanling. It was an excuse they used rather a lot to get Jiang Cheng to where he needed to be. “He’s definitely still the Empress. Keep reading.”

Wei Wuxian kept reading.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he said a second later. “Someone mistook him for a guard? How?!”

“I mean, it’s not as ridiculous as you might think. No one’s seen him in years,” Jiang Cheng said, finally breaking his mask of boredom in favor of a grin. “He’s always behind all those veils – I’m pretty sure his fashion sense as Empress is ‘how much can I look like the curtain I’m trying to hide behind’.”

“But he’s so –” Wei Wuxian moved his hands around in an attempt to encompass very broad shoulders, a narrow waist, muscles, and also height. “Notable!”

“It’s been a while since you’ve been to court, hasn’t it? He’s always up on that platform far away from everyone else – you know how Wen Ruohan likes to look down on everyone – and everything around him has been resized for him; he looks more proportional that way. And if you didn’t know, and there’s no reason that this Meng Yao fellow would know…”

“Still!”

“No, really, it’s not that strange! You know how Wen Ruohan’s guards of the inner hall are dressed, all fancy Wen sect robes, and that’s all Nie Mingjue has other than his Empress get-up, which obviously isn’t appropriate for when he wants to go outside to train Baxia. He would’ve been wearing the right clothes and walking in the right place, and he is what you’d expect a guard to look like…if you bumped into him at random, as happened here, it’s a reasonable mistake to make.”

“He hired him as his secretary,” Wei Wuxian marveled. “Just – wow. Wow. Mingjue-xiong is going to break him in half, the first time he tries anything.”

“Maybe,” Jiang Cheng said. “Maybe not.”

Someone needs to go assassinate this Meng Yao person right away, Nie Huaisang’s next letter – nominally addressed to Lan Wangji this time – said. I think my brother might actually like him. A upstart Jin bastard that worked his way up through the Fire Palace – do you think all these years with Wen Ruohan has rotted da-ge’s sense of taste?

“He doesn’t actually mean that we should assassinate him,” Wei Wuxian told Lan Wangji, who nodded in agreement. “We still need the viceroy to remain in his place as the target. He’s just being dramatic.”

If Nie Huaisang actually wanted Wei Wuxian to assassinate someone, he had other ways of asking.

That was a fair portion of what Wei Wuxian did these days, actually, other than work on his ideas for demonic cultivation and warm Lan Wangji’s bed. Ironically enough, of the three, the last was his actual job: after Wen Chao had his golden core destroyed as punishment for having dared fight back when the Wen sect invaded the Lotus Pier – a temper tantrum at not being allowed to do the same to Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian suspected, since Wen Ruohan had even then already planned to sell the heirs of the Jiang sect to the highest bidder – Lan Wangji had, after quietly rescuing him at Jiang Cheng’s frantic instigation and with Nie Huaisang’s connivance, announced that he was keeping him as a personal pet.

Wen Ruohan had been pressuring the Lan sect to adopt some vices, simply because he knew it would make them uncomfortable – Lan Qiren had been a particular target – and he’d been satisfied by the notion of one of Lan Qiren’s precious nephews, the Jades of Lan, deciding to keep a whore, even if he’d insisted on having Wei Wuxian inspected to make sure he’d been thoroughly used.

(Proving it had not been a hardship, not when Wei Wuxian had a lover as thorough and tireless as Lan Wangji. Joke’s on you, Wen Ruohan!)

Still, even as Wei Wuxian did (in his opinion) some of his best work on his back and puzzled his way through demonic cultivation as the only possible route for him now – Lan Qiren helped him with some of the musical cultivation bits, and also in arguing to the Lan sect elders that some type of cultivation was better than nothing, and anyway there was a limit to how much trouble he could cause while under close supervision – he had also started up a sideline in taking out their political enemies on account of being the one of them that people would least suspect. No one even remembered his name anymore!

“Maybe we should go to court and check him out,” Wei Wuxian added thoughtfully. “See what he’s like, make sure he’s not leading Nie Mingjue down the wrong path, that sort of thing.”

They could pass along some of Nie Huaisang’s messages, too.

There was that whole coup they were planning, even if it was far less interesting than Nie Mingjue actually making a friend for the first time in over a decade…

“Mm,” Lan Wangji agreed. “Wei Ying has good judgment.”

“I do! If he’s nice – though there’s no chance he’ll be nice, he’s from the Fire Palace – I’ll tell Nie Huaisang that I approve,” Wei Wuxian decided. “If he’s awful, I’ll send a ghost to haunt him until he can’t sleep. If he’s a little awful but seems salvageable, I’ll…I don’t know…I’ll set some dogs on him!”

Lan Wangji’s eyebrows went up.

“You’ll set some dogs on him!”

The eyebrows went down.

“Rude, Lan Zhan. Very rude.”

“So having now seen Meng Yao and my da-ge interact with my own two eyes, I’ve decided that they’re going to get married,” Nie Huaisang announced.

“Is that wise?” Wei Wuxian asked, even though he actually thought Meng Yao was pretty cool. He was so good at being nice to people that he disliked, so incredibly efficient, so thoughtful, and best of all only very rarely followed up on the occasional murder-eyes he liked to shoot people when he thought no one was looking; it had actually been the fact that he and Lan Wangji had both vouched for him that had convinced Nie Huaisang to change his plans to account for his brother’s preferences. “Making him the Empress? He’ll be bossing your brother around in no time.”

“He’s already bossing my brother around, and that’s the way my brother likes it,” Nie Huaisang said. “Making Meng Yao the mother of the Empire – above ten thousand, below one – is the ideal way to sate his hunger for power in a way that makes him feel confident that he won’t be so easily replaced the way a viceroy or prime minister would be, and therefore unlikely to betray us. Also, it will make Jin Guangshan have an aneurysm, and that will be hilarious.”

“I like that,” Jiang Cheng said. “Also, didn’t we agree that you were going to be the prime minister?”

“No,” Nie Huaisang said patiently. “You are going to be prime minster, and I’m going to be your empty-headed but pretty former Imperial Consort wife.”

“I’m pretty sure ‘former Imperial Consort’ isn’t usually a thing.”

“Yes, well, it’s a coup, we make the rules. It’d be such a shame not to use this nice bureaucracy that Wen Ruohan set up for us…Wei-xiong, what about you?”

“What about me? I’m very happy as Lan Zhan’s whore.”

Jiang Cheng tried to hit him, but Wei Wuxian dodged, cackling. “Maybe I’ll start spending his money on fancy clothing and living it up now that I’m his official mistress,” he said. “I have Wang Lingjiao’s example to look up to, don’t I..?”

“I would like to marry Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji opined, and Wei Wuxian suddenly felt all gooey inside.

“I meant what will we do with him in the government,” Nie Huaisang said, long-suffering. “You’re all useless – though not as useless as me, of course.”

Jiang Cheng pressed a kiss to his cheek. “No one’s as useless as you, my little good-for-nothing.”

“And don’t any of you forget it!” Nie Huasiang exclaimed, then elbowed Jiang Cheng in the ribs. “Don’t touch me, you married man. Get a proper divorce before you try making your way into my bed; what sort of girl do you think I am?”

“You can’t be serious!” Jiang Cheng spluttered. “Jin Zixuan is drawing up the papers right now –”

“I feel like I deserve a proper wedding, don’t you?” Nie Huaisang asked Wei Wuxian, who started laughing. “I didn’t get a proper one the last time around –”

“We’ve been sleeping together for years!”

“We were having a thrilling affair under the nose of an evil tyrannical dictator. Who’s to say that the spark’s still there?”

“Oh you want spark,” Jiang Cheng said. “I’ll give you spark –”

#mdzs #wei wuxian #lan wangji #jiang cheng #nie huaisang #my fic #my fics #good help #I saw this ask and got Inspired #barid-bel-medar

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vespertineflora · 4 years

Link

WE COULD HAVE HAD IT ALLLLLLLLLLL. I’m so sad about xiyao, but lets ignore that and enjoy some tender fluffy smut instead.

Rating: Explicit Summary: It's Lan Xichen's first visit to Lanling since Jin Guangyao's ascent to the position of Chief Cultivator the previous month, and with everything he's been through recently, he's perhaps tenser than he otherwise would be, spending a peaceful evening with his dearest friend. Luckily, Jin Guangyao has some ideas about the best ways to relieve stress. (13.7k, a semi-platonic massage leads to MUCH more, top!jgy/bottom!lxc, see AO3 for full tags)

~~~

“Er-Ge, you seem tense.”

Lan Xichen looked up from the cup of tea he was gripping too tightly in his hands and across the small table to Jin Guangyao, who was offering him a kind smile, a look of sincere concern in his eyes.

“My apologies,” Lan Xichen said. He let out a slow breath and tried to ground himself in the moment. He had no reason to be tense just now. It was his first time visiting with Jin Guangyao since the coronation the previous month, and they were having a perfectly lovely time. Dinner had been exquisite, and it was late in the evening now, most of the residents of Carp Tower having retired for the night some time ago. It was likely just them and a handful of patrolling guards who were still awake.

“No need to apologize. I know there’s been a lot on your mind recently,” Jin Guangyao said sympathetically. “Is it anything you’d like to discuss?”

Lan Xichen knew Jin Guangyao was right. The last few months had been... trying. Nie Mingjue’s sudden passing had stricken him deeper than he tried to show, processing his own grief at the loss of his sworn brother while also trying to offer Nie Huaisang support during his untimely transition to sect leader... Lan Wangji was finally out of bed in these last few months, the deep wounds finally healed into permanent scar tissue, his strength far from what it was after three years of being mostly bedridden, and his spirits still so low. The only slight joy he seemed to get was from being with A-Yuan, a relationship that Lan Xichen had spent the last several years mediating, as his uncle had been so set on Lan Wangji’s seclusion as punishment that he had only allowed them brief visits with one another.

And less traumatizing, but still hectic, had been Jin Guangshan’s death the previous month, leaving his only suitable heir, Jin Guangyao, in the new position of sect leader and Chief Cultivator.

He shook his head, offering Jin Guangyao a faint smile. “No, it’s nothing but the same old worries. There’s no sense in discussing it again.”

Jin Guangyao had allowed him to vent his troubles over and over again. They had both lost their sworn brother, and even though Lan Xichen knew there had been tension between Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao, it had been an upsetting time for both of them and it wasn’t a topic he wanted to bring up just now. And Lan Wangji... Lan Xichen had probably talked of his worries over his brother for longer than he’d talked about anything with Jin Guangyao, and right now, he’d rather not trouble him again with more of the same.

“Then... would you mind if I...?” Jin Guangyao trailed off, but motioned across the table towards him, and even without finishing the question, Lan Xichen already thought he knew what Jin Guangyao was asking.

Lan Xichen gave Jin Guangyao a slightly more easy smile and a nod, and Jin Guangyao pushed himself up elegantly from his seat and rounded the table, kneeling behind him. Just a moment later, Jin Guangyao’s hands gently moved his hair forward over one shoulder and found their way to his shoulders, where they began kneading into the flesh in a familiar movement.

It wasn’t the first time Jin Guangyao had done such a thing for him. Years ago, when Lan Xichen had fled the Cloud Recesses with as many sacred scrolls as he could take with him, Jin Guangyao had been the one to keep hidden him away at a very high risk to himself, and more than that... he’d taken care of him. Lan Xichen was by no means helpless, of course, he’d helped where he could, but... Jin Guangyao had brought him meals and washed his clothes and had even gone so far as to massage him like this more than once, when he could tell that stressful times were becoming a bit too much for Lan Xichen to bear.

A soft breath pushed out of him as Jin Guangyao’s thumb pressed into a knot of tension at the back of his neck, and he issued a polite refusal, “This isn’t necessary, A-Yao.”

Even after so many years, Lan Xichen felt that Jin Guangyao’s formal gestures towards him were still too grand. Lan Xichen had never seen Jin Guangyao as someone lesser than himself, and he hoped that after so long, and after so much had changed, that Jin Guangyao still didn’t see their difference as such.

“I know, Er-Ge, but please, allow me. It eases my troubles to ease yours” Jin Guangyao replied, warm and insistent. His hands continued to move in practiced motions, fingers rubbing and pressing in tight circles as he continued almost casually, “Perhaps it’s too many years spent as a servant to others, but I’m not yet used to being waited on the way I am now. I can’t say I envy my past self, and it’s not a life I want to return to, but... this is something I enjoy doing for you.”

Lan Xichen let out a soft breath, something not quite a laugh, but an amused sound, and he smiled a bit more easily than before. He replied, “If that’s truly how you feel, then I won’t stop you. Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it,” Jin Guangyao replied softly, before investing himself in his task.

Lan Xichen simply... didn’t want to take advantage of Jin Guangyao, who had been nothing but the dearest of friends to him for so many years, and had been trodden on so many times by others... Lan Xichen never wished to treat Jin Guangyao that way. But if this was truly something he wanted to do, then Lan Xichen would be a fool to refuse him.

Especially because this was something Jin Guangyao was quite good at. Lan Xichen chose not to consider where Jin Guangyao had picked up the art of massage but... he had indeed picked it up somewhere. His hands moved rhythmically over Lan Xichen’s neck and shoulders and upper arms--he seemed to know exactly where Lan Xichen’s tension was being held and would dig his fingertips and knuckles in to just the right spot at just the right pressure, forcing out a dull ache until the muscle felt loose and limp, before he would move to his next target spot.

Lan Xichen felt himself relaxing more and more with each passing moment. His scalp tingled pleasantly, his troubles all but melting away little by little as Jin Guangyao’s hands moved from his shoulders down to his back, pressing in along his spine and kneading firmly into the strong muscles. It was impossible then not to think about how... intimate this was. They were alone in Jin Guangyao’s private chambers, where they likely would be undisturbed until morning. The room was dim, warmly lit by the glow of a few scattered candles, the faint smell of jasmine tea lingering in the air, and it was quiet outside of the soft swish of skin and fabric and... by comparison, the much more prominent sound of Lan Xichen’s soft exhales and hitched breaths with each new knot that Jin Guangyao discovered and worked away.

His head leaned forward, his shoulders relaxed, his hands sitting loosely in his lap. He could feel the warmth of Jin Guangyao’s figure behind him, and... he’d be lying to himself to ignore just how much he liked having Jin Guangyao’s hands on him, how... Lan Xichen wouldn’t have allowed this sort of intimacy from anyone else, and just how special Jin Guangyao was to him. He’d be lying to say he hadn’t ever considered what something more would be like, despite knowing the impossibility of such a thing. It didn’t stop him from dreaming, of course, didn’t stop his thoughts from wandering now or in the late hours, alone in his bed about what the heat of someone’s, a certain someone’s, hands or lips might just feel like...

Lan Xichen was so buried in the thoughts that he didn’t realize what he was feeling at first, didn’t process that Jin Guangyao had leaned in closer to him, and... that there was a pair of warm lips pressed to the back of his neck, just above the collar of his robes.

A shiver ran down his spine, and his previously relaxed pulse picked up as he processed what he was feeling, as the heat of the gesture overtook him. He was almost breathless as he gasped out a soft, “A-Yao?”

Jin Guangyao’s lips pulled back from the skin suddenly, but... he didn’t pull away any more than that, his knuckles still pressing into Lan Xichen’s lower back in a relieving motion. “I’m... so sorry, Er-Ge,” he said. Lan Xichen couldn’t see his face, but... he did sound apologetic, and... a bit breathless himself. His volume was low, still desperately intimate, “I’m not sure what came over me. Perhaps I’ve had too much to drink tonight.”

Lan Xichen was well aware that Jin Guangyao had had maybe two cups of liquor with dinner, and while Jin Guangyao had never been a heavy drinker, he wasn’t that much of a lightweight. It felt more like an easy excuse for such a brazen action than anything, though... Lan Xichen found that he suddenly didn’t want Jin Guangyao to have to make any such excuse. He could feel the ghost of Jin Guangyao’s lips where they’d been pressed to his skin and he was certainly going to be haunted by it for quite some time...

Jin Guangyao’s hands slowly moved up Lan Xichen’s back, doing nothing to walk back the deeper intimacy he’d created--and when he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper as it caressed the shell of his ear. “I didn’t upset you, did I?”

“No,” Lan Xichen practically exhaled, his breath suddenly so high in his chest that he was afraid he’d lose it entirely. “Not at all.”

He was... reeling a bit, his thoughts had been so soft, his body so relaxed, that going from that to this state of tension--not stress tension, but something else, something he’d never quite felt before--was almost like whiplash. He hadn’t fully adjusted, and part of him didn’t want to, even as the motion of Jin Guangyao’s hands on him was trying to provoke him right back into relaxation.

“Not at all?” Jin Guangyao repeated back at him, his voice low and... curious now, almost a purr. It was a tone Lan Xichen wasn’t sure he’d ever heard him use before and it seemed to send a shudder down his spine. “Then... would it upset you if I did it again?”

Lan Xichen felt his heart thud as a sudden heat rose to his cheeks. He could hardly believe the implication, that Jin Guangyao could mean it, but he answered honestly, “It... wouldn’t.”

He only had to wait a second before he felt it again, the soft pressure of Jin Guangyao’s mouth against the skin, almost matching the first kiss exactly, causing the same strange and pleasurable shiver to run down Lan Xichen’s spine as before.

Reacting naturally, Lan Xichen leaned his head forward to expose more of his nape, and even absently reached up to pull his hair more neatly in front of him and out of the way. It was suddenly his highest priority to give Jin Guangyao’s lips as much access to his neck as they would like.

And Jin Guangyao’s lips seemed just as eager to be there as Lan Xichen was to have them. His hands somehow managed to keep up their slow progression of movement over his back, less massaging and more just a gentle up and down tracing of his fingers as his lips pressed softly on and off, scattering slow kisses over every exposed inch of skin.

If Lan Xichen had thought his breathing had been too obvious before, it was near-deafening to his own ears now. His lips had parted early on in the process, his breaths huffing softly between them, his heart fluttering in his chest. Was this... normal? Lan Xichen had never been touched like this before, had never even been kissed before, much less so... intimately. He was both a little light-headed and overwhelmingly enchanted--he felt like... like he was buzzing with delight, teetering on the edge of anticipation as Jin Guangyao’s lips slowly worked towards the exposed side of his neck.

When Jin Guangyao’s hand finally left his back, it was to raise to the collar of his robes and pull them down ever so slightly, allowing Jin Guangyao to press a kiss to the crook of his neck... before Lan Xichen felt the hot flick of tongue against the skin, and he heard himself gasp.

The sound only encouraged Jin Guangyao, and now each of his kisses was followed by a soft tease of the tip of his tongue, as he made his way almost torturously slowly back up his neck, until the kiss was just below his ear, and Jin Guangyao’s mouth lingered there, not only flicking his tongue at the skin, but suckling at the skin a bit as he... reached up with his hand to cradle it against the other side of Lan Xichen’s jaw and gently turn his face towards him.

Lan Xichen felt his body turning more than he actually turned it, adjusting as he felt Jin Guangyao doing the same. The new angle let Jin Guangyao continue forward, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along Lan Xichen’s jaw all the way down to his chin, then up to the corner of his mouth, before...

They hovered over his for just a moment, hesitating before delivering the final blow... and then Jin Guangyao’s lips finally pressed gently to his own.

For a moment, Lan Xichen forgot to breathe or... really to do much of anything. He was stunned, completely and utterly; Jin Guangyao was kissing him, he was being kissed, this was what being kissed felt like, and besides a series of the most inane thoughts imaginable, his head was utterly empty.

When Jin Guangyao pulled back a few seconds later, Lan Xichen expected a pause before being kissed again, but... instead Jin Guangyao’s mouth just hovered over his, his soft exhales brushing Lan Xichen’s lips, and Lan Xichen didn’t realize what he was waiting for... until it finally occurred to him, and this time, he was the one to close the sliver of distance between their lips.

Lan Xichen... didn’t exactly know what he was doing. He’d seen little kissing in his life and had obviously experienced far less, so his face felt warm as Jin Guangyao kissed him and he... followed his lead, moving his mouth back against Jin Guangyao’s in the way he thought was right. Jin Guangyao didn’t pull away again as their lips moved together, and before long their lips were parted and Jin Guangyao’s tongue was between his lips, coaxing his own forward...

Despite his likely sloppy reciprocation, Jin Guangyao kissed him no less passionately, and before Lan Xichen’s thoughts had caught up to the present, Jin Guangyao’s hands were on his neck, tugging at this robes--he pushed Lan Xichen’s outer coat down off his shoulders, and Lan Xichen complied before his hands reached up to press into Jin Guangyao’s hair, knocking his hat from his perch as he let it slump softly to the floor.

The next few minutes were a hazy blur of hands and lips and the slow shedding of their outermost layers, clothing discarded carelessly to the floor as neither of them were willing to break their lips apart long enough to fold them up properly. Lan Xichen had... thought about this, about kissing Jin Guangyao for... for ages, for years, since nearly the first time they had met, and it was awfully sudden to have such an obscure dream coming true before him, softly gasping for air as Jin Guangyao’s tongue slid so masterfully against his own.

More than anything, it was the heat of arousal building beneath his skin that was leaving Lan Xichen more than thoroughly winded, the soft press of his arousal against the soft linen of his pants that was growing less and less soft with each swipe of Jin Guangyao’s tongue and each gentle nip of his teeth against Lan Xichen’s lips.

It was only as Jin Guangyao’s hands started reaching beneath the last layer of his under robe that Lan Xichen finally gathered his thoughts enough to speak up...

“Wait... wait, A-Yao,” he protested softly, while he still had the mental capacity to do so.

Jin Guangyao responded with one final soft kiss before he paused to allow Lan Xichen to speak, though he lingered close, his hand still resting directly on Lan Xichen’s shoulder beneath the robe. When he spoke, his words were patient and caring, “What is it, Er-Ge?”

“We...” Lan Xichen spoke hesitantly, a large part of him not even wanting to voice the thought, for fear the argument in his head was too strong a reason and would actually end what they were doing. “Should we stop?”

Jin Guangyao’s free hair slid up to cradle his jaw delicately. He asked quietly, “Are you not enjoying this?”

Lan Xichen felt his face flush a bit warmer as his thoughts dropped to what was probably obvious evidence of his enjoyment of what they were doing. “No, that’s not it. It’s...” He didn’t want Jin Guangyao to get the wrong impression. He... wanted this. He wanted this more than he’d wanted many things in his life, he just... “I’m not sure it’s... appropriate.”

Maybe more than anything, he wanted to voice his doubts so that he might be talked out of them.

“Appropriate how?” Jin Guangyao questioned curiously, his tone anything but aggressive, as if he was willing to consider whatever argument Lan Xichen wished to present to him.

Lan Xichen, though normally quite articulate, wasn’t even sure he could find the words to put together his fears, about... how this might change things for them, for their clans, for... anything.

“Are you worried for our friendship?” Jin Guangyao asked after a long, quiet moment.

Lan Xichen felt overwhelmingly grateful to have a friend who understood him well enough to put together the pieces when he couldn’t. He nodded faintly, and felt... strangely relieved when he saw Jin Guangyao smile at him.

“Er-Ge, nothing could alter how dearly I hold you in my heart,” he spoke softly, even brushing their lips gently together. “If you’d like this to be just for tonight, then so be it. If it’s a night that bears repeating, my thoughts are the same. I could never think less of you, no matter what happens, and we don’t have to decide now.”

Already, Lan Xichen felt any resolve he might have had softening. He voiced timidly, “And what of our sects? Our reputations? I couldn’t bear for this to hurt you.”

It was Jin Guangyao’s reputation he feared for more than his own; Jin Guangyao was already publicly dragged as the son of a prostitute, already so highly contested, and having just been granted such a high rank... The last thing Lan Xichen wanted was for some scandalous affair to come crashing down on him, causing him to lose everything he'd worked so hard for.

“We’re all alone here,” Jin Guangyao replied reasonably as his thumb stroked Lan Xichen’s cheek. “No one has to know if we don’t want them to. And we’re already sworn brothers, no one’s ever questioned the time we spend alone together.”

It was another sound point, as they had every reason to spend time alone together. If there weren’t already rumors about the two of them sharing some secret relationship, there was no reason for such things to develop in the future, even if this... happened again.

And then it was on to Lan Xichen’s final fear, his final guilt. “And... what of Qin Su? I don’t want to come between you.”

Jin Guangyao had only been married to her for a year or so now, their son had been born not so long ago. Lan Xichen... didn’t want to be a cause for contention between them, and perhaps more so, he didn’t want to force Jin Guangyao into the role of his own father, nothing even close to that. He would never ask Jin Guangyao to leave his beloved wife, and he didn’t want to bring pain to a relationship that seemed so joyous.

Upon hearing his wife’s name, Jin Guangyao’s expression changed to something soft and thoughtful, and he pulled his face back just enough so that their eyes could meet more easily.

“You know I care deeply for Qin Su,” he said, before a smile tugged up the corner of his mouth and danced lightly in his eyes and he continued as if sharing some grand secret. “Just as she knows I care deeply for you.”

Lan Xichen felt his breath hitch at the words, glad for the pause Jin Guangyao gave him to take them in. Perhaps the conclusion of Jin Guangyao’s feelings for him should have been obvious given what they were doing, but... hearing Jin Guangyao directly compare his feelings for his wife to Lan Xichen like that was a bit overwhelming.

“I have no desire to be like those who have come before me,” he said firmly, referencing his father without saying his name. “This isn’t a decision made out of careless lust, and it isn't something I would do with anyone else. Qin Su knows how I feel, and... in this case, for you, she would permit it. So if the thought of her is all that’s holding you back, you can put it from your mind.”

Lan Xichen sighed as the explanation sunk in, easing his tension, and the subtle response made the smile on Jin Guangyao’s face widen affectionately. “That’s just like you, to put the feelings of others before your own,” he said, before his grin turned a bit more sly. “Think selfishly for once, Er-Ge. Do you want to continue?”

His fears and doubts assuaged, Lan Xichen didn’t need to consider his answer long. He managed a smile back and replied, “I do.”

“Good,” Jin Guangyao replied, his thumb brushing sweetly against Lan Xichen’s cheek. “I do too.”

He leaned in and then they were kissing again--and it took hardly any time at all to build up the momentum they’d established earlier. Lan Xichen couldn’t help but wonder if Jin Guangyao had been waiting for and wanting this moment as long as he had, though he certainly wasn’t going to take time away from their kissing to ask.

It didn’t take Jin Guangyao long to get back to the task he’d been distracted from, and before Lan Xichen knew it, Jin Guangyao’s hands were slipping beneath the last layers of his robe again. His fingertips danced over the skin, and he only teased so nicely for a moment before he was pushing the robe down over his shoulders, Lan Xichen prying his own arms from around Jin Guangyao to let it fall to the floor with the rest of his clothes.

Immediately afterwards, his hands were on Jin Guangyao again, fingers threading up into his hair while the other hand snaked around Jin Guangyao’s back beneath his own already opened robes. He held onto him as Jin Guangyao’s hands began exploring his chest with abandon, tracing up and down of the firm lines of his muscles, fingertips brushing lightly over his nipples and causing an unexpectedly thrilling sensation that shocked a gasp out of him and made Jin Guangyao’s fingers linger there. Though Lan Xichen’s dizziness had nearly faded before, as Jin Guangyao’s fingertips rubbed over and lightly twisted at the buds on his chest, Lan Xichen found the sensation quickly returning--he shocked even himself as a particularly sharp tug made him let out a short whimper into Jin Guangyao’s mouth.

While one hand stayed behind to keep toying with the nipple that only seemed to be getting more sensitive, the other gently traced down Lan Xichen’s chest, before moving instead to rub at Lan Xichen’s thigh.

Though it would have been nearly impossible to ignore his growing erection, especially considering Lan Xichen was certain he’d never been this aroused before, having Jin Guangyao’s hand pressing to the muscle so close to it now was nearly enough to make Lan Xichen quake, his body practically aching for the contact denied to it for so long.

As if he sensed this, Jin Guangyao didn’t tease him for long--in fact, just a moment later, Lan Xichen gasped sharply as he felt the heat of Jin Guangyao’s hand rubbing over him through the last thin bit of fabric separating them.

“May I take care of this, Er-Ge?” he asked, his voice so hot and breathless against Lan Xichen’s lips that the sound of it alone made Lan Xichen’s head spin. “Nothing would make me happier than to please you.”

Jin Guangyao’s hand lingered right where it was, gently cradled around the shaft of his cock, not moving at all--and Lan Xichen realized quickly enough that Jin Guangyao was waiting for his answer.

“Yes,” he gasped out softly, his voice tinged with a bit more desperation than he’d expected, before adding, “please.”

Jin Guangyao pressed a quick kiss to his lips before he started to trail away again--though it suddenly became that much harder to focus on where Jin Guangyao’s mouth was going as his hand started to slowly stroke the length of his erection, the heat almost unbearable even through his pants. After all, Lan Xichen had never been touched like this by another; he only rarely touched himself. This wasn’t the sort of stimulation he was used to receiving, so he couldn't help but find it thrilling now.

Meanwhile, Jin Guangyao’s mouth was laying a new trail of kisses down over Lan Xichen’s chest, his lips moving down inch by inch, kissing over his abdomen, his navel... before kissing the head of his cock through his pants, and making Lan Xichen’s eyes widen as he realized just what Jin Guangyao was planning.

Lan Xichen was inexperienced, but he wasn’t completely naive. Public displays of affection were non-existent in the Cloud Recesses, much less anything more... but Lan Lan Xichen had done his fair share of travelling, and he’d learned of more than just bloodshed during the war, stumbling upon more than one pair of soldiers seeking relief in one another after so much weary combat. Plus, no matter how his uncle tried to prevent and confiscate it, there had always been pornography in the Cloud Recesses and probably always would be. Lan Xichen had even accidentally found his brother’s own collection when he’d been searching his room for some text that was missing from the library (and had probably spent longer browsing the quite explicit art than he would ever care to admit).

Needless to say, he wasn’t confused about Jin Guangyao’s intentions as his friend carefully untied the front of his pants and reverently freed Lan Xichen’s erection from inside, but... he was in awe. What he’d expected when this began, he couldn’t say for sure, but he wouldn’t have guessed at Jin Guangyao’s desire to do this for him, wouldn’t have guessed he’d see such a pleased smile on his friend’s face as his lips descended to press a faint kiss to the tip of his cock, though even such a light touch left Lan Xichen gasping for air.

Jin Guangyao took his time pressing his lips all up and down the shaft, as if he’d been given a very precious gift, as if he were set on cherishing every inch of the offering standing before him--and it was perhaps that as much as the contact itself that was making Lan Xichen’s cheeks burn, that Jin Guangyao wasn’t just doing this for him, but that he seemed elated to do it, as if Lan Xichen was the one doing something for him and not the other way around.

Lan Xichen was quickly reduced to panting as he watched Jin Guangyao moving over him, eyes fixated, his hand eventually moving to press through the silky strands of Jin Guangyao’s hair, combing it back from his face so that Lan Xichen could keep it in view as much as possible as Jin Guangyao looked... almost serene in his movements, the trace of a smile lingering on his lips, his eyes half-closed... He looked as though if he were a cat, he’d be purring--and when a drop of pearly precum appeared at the tip of his cock, Jin Guangyao moved eagerly to lick it away with a flick of his tongue, making Lan Xichen’s breath stutter all over again.

As if this were a true indulgence for him, Jin Guangyao then took another long moment to trace the same pathways with his tongue, dragging it almost torturously slowly from the base to the tip, before he began to lap teasingly at the head, careful to lick up every drop of precum Lan Xichen spared. He chose a few spots to suckle lightly at, one spot near the base of his cock, then one just underneath the head that nearly made Lan Xichen see fireworks as Jin Guangyao’s tongue rubbed assertively against it.

Dazedly, Lan Xichen almost wondered how Jin Guangyao could so thoroughly know what he was doing--though he quickly realized how pointless such a question probably was. Despite never holding Jin Guangyao’s background against him, Lan Xichen was still aware of it. Lan Xichen couldn’t be certain of what Jin Guangyao was exposed to being raised in a brothel, but between that and the personal experience he most certainly had, it wasn’t nearly so much of a stretch to assume that Jin Guangyao would have some idea as to what he was doing.

When Jin Guangyao finally saw fit to wrap his lips around him, Lan Xichen’s vision nearly whited out for a second--he never could have imagined what such a thing could feel like, the inside of Jin Guangyao’s mouth so intensely hot that Lan Xichen had the fleeting impression that he somehow might have been burned, though as soon as Jin Guangyao started to suck at the head just a moment later, any worry of such of thing was quickly pushed away. The only thing Lan Xichen’s mind had space for was bliss, was Jin Guangyao’s tongue rubbing pointedly over the head of his cock, before his lips were sinking down to take Lan Xichen deeper into his mouth, bobbing his lips over the top half while his hand wrapped comfortably around the lower. After just a few seconds, the two halves began working together--and then working in earnest--stroking and sucking in tandem.

Though he’d been trying to continue watching Jin Guangyao’s dedicated efforts, Lan Xichen’s eyes squeezed shut, out of his control. After being strung along for so long, the orgasm was approaching quickly, and while part of Lan Xichen wanted to wallow in this moment of all-consuming ecstasy for hours, he knew he’d have no such luck. Quickly, his breaths became tainted with sound, soft, desperate moans and just a moment or so later, he gasped out a raspy warning, “A-Yao, I’m-”

He interrupted himself with a moan, pushing back the orgasm just a few seconds longer--though Jin Guangyao didn’t pull away, retreating only enough so that he was suckling on the head, and then suckling even harder until--

Lan Xichen came with a harder sound, muffled by his closed lips, fingers gripping involuntarily tighter for a few seconds on Jin Guangyao’s hair as he released into Jin Guangyao’s beckoning mouth.

When he managed to force his eyes open a half-second later, he saw Jin Guangyao eyeing the table, or perhaps more specifically one of the cups on the table, considerately... before the look on his face settled on acceptance and... after sliding his lips off of Lan Xichen’s cock, Lan Xichen realized he’d swallowed, making the heat on Lan Xichen’s face burn brightly once more.

Jin Guangyao sat up, one hand braced on Lan Xichen’s thigh as he leaned in. He reached up to delicately push a bit of Lan Xichen’s hair back behind his ear before gently nuzzling his cheek, all his movements soft and sweet as he let Lan Xichen catch his breath for a bit. He scattered kisses over his cheek and jaw, but... seemed to avoid going back to Lan Xichen’s lips for a reason that wasn’t immediately apparent to Lan Xichen.

Wanting to kiss him properly again, Lan Xichen turned his head to press his mouth more boldly to Jin Guangyao’s and didn’t hesitate to part his lips, to brush his tongue forward the way Jin Guangyao had done to him earlier to encourage the kiss to deepen, and though Jin Guangyao seemed surprised, he gave in a second later--and the unexpected and faintly bitter taste on Jin Guangyao’s tongue answered the question he hadn’t asked as Lan Xichen realized with a flurried rush of his pulse that he was tasting himself.

Lan Xichen felt flustered all over again, his mouth hesitating for a split second as he swallowed the realization... but the hesitation quickly passed as he let his tongue press more confidently against Jin Guangyao’s, kissing him deeper. If Jin Guangyao was willing to do such a thing for him, it felt nothing less than ungrateful to avoid kissing him afterward.

They kissed heatedly for a moment or so more while Lan Xichen regained a bit of his composure, though he was far from unaware of Jin Guangyao’s state, could see the shape of his cock just as clearly beneath his pants just as Lan Xichen’s had been not so long ago, and while he didn’t know if he could be so bold as to take him into his mouth just yet, he longed to touch him, wanted to give Jin Guangyao the same pleasure he’d been given.

Lan Xichen reached his hands forward, where they settled briefly on Jin Guangyao’s hips, fingertips stroking over the bare skin as he gathered his nerve... after a moment, he let his hand drift across Jin Guangyao’s lap, until he could feel the shape of Jin Guangyao’s cock beneath his palm.

Jin Guangyao didn’t seem nearly so shaken by the sensation as Lan Xichen had been, but he did moan encouragingly into Lan Xichen’s mouth, his fingers pressing back into Lan Xichen’s hair as his tongue pressed a bit deeper into his mouth. Lan Xichen’s hand began to experimentally rub along the shaft, feeling it... firm up a bit more beneath his hand, and after a moment, Jin Guangyao’s hips started to press forward into the contact, lifting up until he was up on his knees in front of Lan Xichen, Lan Xichen’s head tilted back to continue being so thoroughly kissed as his hand continued to stroke Jin Guangyao, wondering when he should reach inside...

Before he could spend much time thinking about it, he felt Jin Guangyao gently guiding him up onto his knees to meet him--and before Lan Xichen’s hand could do much else, Jin Guangyao had slid it away from his cock and around to his back, his own arm wrapping around Lan Xichen in turn to pull their bodies flush together.

Somehow, feeling Jin Guangyao’s arousal pressing firmly against him was... just as intimate as holding it against his hand, and though his own cock had gone semi-soft after coming, he found it stiffening once more at the brand new sensation.

The kiss continued as Jin Guangyao’s arms wrapped around him, and Lan Xichen did his part in helping to press their bodies flush, the heat of Jin Guangyao’s skin pressed all along his chest its own reward.

Jin Guangyao’s hands began to move again, fingertips dancing lightly all along his back, moving up as they started to rub circles into his muscles once more, before then began to work their way back down, to his lower back and then... Lan Xichen’s attention was almost solely focused on Jin Guangyao’s hands as they slipped beneath the lowered waist of his pants to cup the curve of his ass, and when they squeezed, even the rather gentle pressure was enough to make Lan Xichen moan as his cock gave an eager twitch and his hips pressed forward.

He... he thought he knew where this was going, where Jin Guangyao’s hands were heading. His mind almost reeled to think of it, because... he could probably count the times he’d seriously thought of the two of them together on both hands, having believed such a thing would never come to pass, and when he’d fantasized about it, their activities had usually just involved the eager exploration of yearning mouths and hands. Lan Xichen knew there was more, of course, he’d just never gone so far as to dream of it, to think about... who would be doing what or touching who where, but...

He couldn’t say he had any complaints about this. Jin Guangyao seemed to know what he was doing in a way that Lan Xichen didn’t and Lan Xichen trusted him implicitly to do whatever it was he had in mind.

Besides, Lan Xichen would be lying to say he wasn’t desperately interested to... find out what it would feel like, to experience the sensation of having something or... someone inside.

So Lan Xichen almost expected it as Jin Guangyao’s fingers moved inward, as his fingertips nearly ghosted along the space between his cheeks, seemingly gauging Lan Xichen’s reaction... which was overwhelmingly positive, his breath catching again, a soft sort of whimper escaping his mouth as he was caught off guard at the arousal such a sensation caused.

Jin Guangyao’s fingers traced back over the cleft a second time, more firmly than before but still not pressing between them, and Lan Xichen felt his grip on Jin Guangyao tightening a bit more.

The kiss turned softer, lighter, and Jin Guangyao pulled away as little as possible to ask in that same low voice as before, “Have you ever been touched here?”

Lan Xichen shivered faintly, feeling his cheeks heat up again as he answered, “No.”

Jin Guangyao bit gently at his lip, his hips shifting forward and briefly drawing Lan Xichen’s attention down to where their cocks were pressed closed together. “Really?” Jin Guangyao pressed with a sort of curious amusement as the fingertip moved lightly up and down. Though Lan Xichen’s eyes were closed, he didn’t need to look to hear the playful smile in his voice. “Not even on your own? You weren’t ever curious enough to try?”

Lan Xichen realized suddenly he was being teased and he let out a breathless huff, feeling himself smiling in spite of the tingle of pleasure creeping up his spine. “Really, A-Yao, I haven’t,” he confirmed, mocking a touch of indignation to play along, “but you say it as though you have.”

Jin Guangyao let out his own light laugh and stole a quick kiss, before he confessed simply, “Perhaps because I have.”

Though Lan Xichen was going to offer no protest to the placement or... future placement of Jin Guangyao’s fingers... he couldn’t say that the thought of Jin Guangyao in bed, touching and fingering himself was any less an inciting mental picture. He huffed out another breath, though this one had far less to do with amusement and far more to do with arousal.

“It can be... quite sensual,” Jin Guangyao said, his voice taking on a more serious, breathless tone once again as he pressed a few more kisses on and off, his fingertip applying just the faintest bit of pressure between Lan Xichen’s cheeks. “I can show you, if you’d like. Would you... allow me that honor, Er-Ge?”

The lead up, the question was... no surprise; Lan Xichen had seen it coming ever since Jin Guangyao had moved his hands... yet actually hearing Jin Guangyao ask him in such a formal way left him a little stunned. It was hard to put into words, but it felt... Jin Guangyao made it feel like Lan Xichen was giving him some monumental gift, like letting Jin Guangyao touch him in such a way was the highest favor he could be granted. Though nothing would change Lan Xichen’s mind, it made a decision Lan Xichen had already committed to... feel more precious suddenly, made the choice seem... more intimate.

Fighting past the stupor, he nodded vaguely, before he sucked in a breath and forced out a soft, “Yes.”

Jin Guangyao kissed him deeply again, and Lan Xichen all but melted into him. His arms slid up over Jin Guangyao’s shoulders, looping behind his back, as Jin Guangyao’s hands... actually moved away from behind him, and instead moved to the waist of his pants, where they slide the fabric down slowly of the curve of his ass, until the pants fell easily to the floor, pooling around his knees.

Then Jin Guangyao’s hands were back on his ass again, squeezing and massaging for a brief moment, before Lan Xichen once again felt Jin Guangyao’s fingers tracing down over the cleft... He pressed between them and when his fingers rubbed a firm circle against Lan Xichen’s entrance, Lan Xichen felt a deep shudder roll through him--his hips jerked forward for friction, before immediately rolling back towards Jin Guangyao’s fingers, unsure which stimulation he wanted more.

Either way, Jin Guangyao delivered. His hips pressed firmly against Lan Xichen’s, while his fingers rubbed boldly, tracing a few circles against the rim, before swiping them up and down in a slow, steady motion. It was... strange, but exhilarating, to have Jin Guangyao touching him in such a private place, and... Lan Xichen could feel the arousal building beneath his skin all over again, as his breaths once more grew heavy. Despite not even knowing what to expect, his body was still eager for it.

“How does it feel?” Jin Guangyao asked tenderly, just as his fingertip applied a bit of pressure, sinking inside the tiniest fraction before retreating--a sensation by itself that was enough to punch the breath out of Lan Xichen.

As if already knowing the answer, there was another smile in Jin Guangyao’s voice as he asked, “Would you like more?”

Lan Xichen didn’t bother speaking up this time; he nodded, and Jin Guangyao replied with a few short kisses before he started to pull away.

Gaining a bit of clarity, he felt Jin Guangyao gently moving the pants at his knees, and when he realized what he was doing, he quickly helped him remove them, pushing them aside with the rest of his clothing. Being completely nude left him feeling... oddly vulnerable--though it was mostly odd because of how intense the feeling suddenly was, despite having hardly any less coverage than he’d had a moment ago... although that was perhaps also enhanced by the reminder that Jin Guangyao still had his pants and open top on, having not nearly as much exposed skin as Lan Xichen now did.

With one final kiss... Jin Guangyao suddenly stood up and crossed to the wardrobe in his room, bending down to open one of the drawers as Lan Xichen watched him curiously. It didn’t take him long, and a moment later, he was returning to kneel back down with Lan Xichen, a small clay jar in hand. He opened the jar and tipped it over, pouring a clear, shiny substance generously over his fingers before setting the jar aside carefully.

Lan Xichen didn’t ask what it was--but he didn’t need to, as Jin Guangyao quickly resumed their earlier arrangement. He leaned in to kiss Lan Xichen and he pulled their bodies close together just as before, and when Jin Guangyao’s fingers returned to his entrance, Lan Xichen could feel the way they slid easily against the skin as they rubbed the slick substance amply over the rim. The texture of the oil between Jin Guangyao’s fingers and his entrance was a whole new sensation to suddenly get used to, but Jin Guangyao didn’t spare him much time before one of his fingertips was again pressing up against Lan Xichen’s hole, and without much effort, the digit slipped past the rim.

The finger pressed inside slowly, wiggling and rocking only as much as it needed to--Lan Xichen was no expert, of course, but... it seemed to go in without much trouble. It didn’t take long to feel the base of Jin Guangyao’s hand against his entrance, and as the finger started to rock in and out of his hole casually, there wasn’t any discomfort. It... was an unusual sensation, nothing like Lan Xichen had ever felt before, small and certainly intimate... and it was probably the awareness of the touch being erotic that aroused him as much as the slight actual sensation did.

Either way, though the kiss had definitely grown sloppy as it suffered from his split attention, he was able to keep it up, arms finding a comfortable place around Jin Guangyao’s shoulders as his finger moved inside, nice and slow for a while... before he started to speed up the pace a bit.

“If it gets to be too much, or if you don’t like it, tell me,” Jin Guangyao breathed against his lips, the words just barely audible over the soft huffs of Lan Xichen’s breathing. “One protest, one whisper from you, Er-Ge, and I’ll stop.”

Maybe Lan Xichen was just hearing things... but there was almost an edge of desperation in Jin Guangyao’s voice, as if stopping was the last thing he would ever want to do, and as the finger started to move a little faster... Lan Xichen was starting to feel like it was the last thing he’d want Jin Guangyao to do as well.

“One word and it’s done,” Jin Guangyao continued, his voice just as heady. The finger pressed in deep, and swirled around slowly inside of him, which was an even more curious sensation. “I only want to pleasure you.”

The finger slid all the way out then, and Lan Xichen felt... two fingertips pressed at his hole this time. Just as slowly as the first time, both fingers started pressing--it didn’t seem to take much more effort to get them inside, but... the slight stretch was more obvious now. One finger had felt strange but almost negligible, two fingers... as they pressed in deeper, spread his hole more... there was nothing negligible about it now. Lan Xichen’s hips arched back a little into the sensation as Jin Guangyao’s fingers rocked in a little more gradually, filling him up a little at a time.

He realized suddenly that he’d stopped kissing Jin Guangyao, the movement faltering as he adjusted to the new sensation, but as Jin Guangyao found a slow pace to thrust his fingers at, Lan Xichen pressed his lips to Jin Guangyao’s again, all too happy to get back to kissing him.

It felt... it felt good. There was a slow, steady ripple of pleasure at having his rim stretched, and at the pressure of the fingers moving inside, and it wasn’t hard for Lan Xichen to understand why someone would enjoy the sensation. It wasn’t the intense feeling of having Jin Guangyao’s mouth on his cock, but it was certainly a welcome feeling.

He was forced to eat the words almost immediately after thinking them.

The angle of Jin Guangyao’s fingers had been adjusting slightly as they moved and as they pressed more firmly against the front wall inside, Lan Xichen’s entire body seemed to go rigged at the sudden deep satisfaction of whatever Jin Guangyao had found. And of course, his reaction to the touch was painfully obvious with the way he’d tensed up and his breath had stuttered.

Jin Guangyao bit playfully at his lip, then decided to show no mercy.

His fingers continued to thrust at that delicious angle, stretching the rim as they pressed in deep, and grazing over the spot that quickly had Lan Xichen on the verge of quaking with... whatever it was doing to him. Whatever calm he’d gained at the gentle pace of a single digit was quickly shirked away as Jin Guangyao’s fingers moved inside of him.

He tried to keep up with the kiss at first, but it didn’t take long before his focus was pulled away, especially as Jin Guangyao moved his fingers quicker, purposefully provoking the sensation that seemed to somehow echo through his entire lower body. Lan Xichen soon needed his mouth for breathing more than he needed it for kissing, his exhales becoming helplessly tainted with sound as his head started to feel like it... like it was fogging over, like the unfamiliar sensation of intoxication making his head swim as Jin Guangyao’s fingers kept working.

After just a moment, Lan Xichen felt Jin Guangyao’s free hand at the back of his head. It gently guided his face down to the crook of Jin Guangyao’s neck, cradling it there lovingly. Through the growing haze of the arousal, he felt Jin Guangyao nuzzling into his hair gently as he soothed, “I’ve got you, Er-Ge. Just hold onto me.”

Lan Xichen did as he was told, his arms securing themselves around Jin Guangyao’s shoulders, letting his face get comfortable in the heat at the curve of Jin Guangyao’s neck--and as soon as he’d settled into this new position, Lan Xichen realized Jin Guangyao had actually still been showing him quite a bit of mercy until then.

His fingers gave up the charade of thrusting entirely, instead just pressing inside as much as they needed so that his fingertips were pressed right up against the most sensitive spot, and now, instead of brushing past it with each thrust... they started rubbing over it in the most pointed way possible.

Instantly, a moan punched out of him, barely muffled by Jin Guangyao’s skin, his arms tightening around Jin Guangyao as desperately as if someone were going to try to pull him out of his grip--though he couldn’t honestly say what he was thinking, if anything, because suddenly all there was, the only thing was the overwhelming pressure of Jin Guangyao’s fingers inside of him, moving back and forth, up and down, rubbing circles mercilessly against the spot until Lan Xichen’s head was absolutely spinning, until he was sure that holding onto Jin Guangyao was the only thing keeping him upright as his entire body seemed to be trembling under the onslaught.

“Shhhh, shhhh,” Jin Guangyao hushed him gently, making Lan Xichen finally aware of all the noise he was making, the breathless whimpers and shaking moans pouring from his mouth. Not wanting the sound to travel beyond their room, he instantly tried to suppress the noise to deep, rushed breaths and though it was still far from silent, it would have to be enough.

Jin Guangyao’s hand stroked Lan Xichen’s hair delicately, in such sharp contrast to the sensation his fingers were causing down below and already Lan Xichen felt like an overripe fruit, one soft bite away from bursting, he felt overheated and dizzied, felt like he was on the verge of drowning in a pleasure the likes of which he’d never even imagined before...

And then Jin Guangyao’s hips pressed close to his again, and his fingertips rubbed even quicker inside of him--and there was nothing Lan Xichen could do to limit the desperate sound that rolled out of him as the orgasm seized him, the sensation somehow deeper than the first one had been, like it was punching out of him from the base of his spine, like it was echoing through his entire abdomen as his body tensed with it, his hole clenching tightly around the fingers inside.

When the orgasm released him, it was like someone had cut the strings that had been holding him up; he practically collapsed his whole weight against Jin Guangyao, who managed quite impressively to keep them from toppling over onto the floor, though it did take him a few seconds to regain his balance with the new weight leaning into him.

Jin Guangyao let out a soft laugh as his hand went back to stroking Lan Xichen’s hair, and Lan Xichen... felt a dazed smile curling at the corner of his lips in spite of himself.

“Er-Ge, you seemed to enjoy that even more than I’d hoped,” he said, his tone faintly playful again as he scattered a few kisses against Lan Xichen’s head.

Lan Xichen huffed out a breath, the most laughter he could manage when his head was still swimming. “I think you’re underestimating yourself, A-Yao,” he protested faintly. “Perhaps you’re better at this then you’ve let on.”

“Perhaps,” Jin Guangyao replied ambiguously with another light laugh. “Either way, I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“You--ah,” Lan Xichen interrupted himself with a gasp as he suddenly felt Jin Guangyao’s fingers starting to move inside of him again, the slowest possible slide in and out as they seemed careful to avoid directly pressing into the stimulating spot inside. Even still, it was hard to express how it made him feel to be reminded of where Jin Guangyao’s fingers were and what they were doing.

“You should,” he exhaled, before rolling his face more firmly against Jin Guangyao’s neck. “I meant it as one.”

Lan Xichen fell back into a rhythm of faint panting as Jin Guangyao’s fingers resumed their thrusting. Even without that intense stimulation, Lan Xichen still felt his arousal building again, the pleasure rippling out slowly from each movement. It was hard to say what was more arousing about it though. Was it the actual sensation, the stretching of his hole as Jin Guangyao made a dedicated effort to open him up, his fingers spreading apart every few thrusts to prepare him for what was coming next?

Or... was it more of a mental arousal? Because now that Lan Xichen had a bit of mental energy to spare, he... he was aware how... obscene this was. He was being slowly fingered open by his dearest friend... and unless Lan Xichen was wrong about the trajectory of this activity, they’d soon be doing something far more intimate. This whole evening was breaking more of his sect’s rules than Lan Xichen cared to tally up right now, and if his uncle ever found out... Well, that wasn’t exactly what he wanted to think about at the moment, but he was sure it would result in quite an ugly reaction. But something about how forbidden this was added a definite layer of incitement to what they were doing that Lan Xichen wouldn’t bother denying.

Perhaps it was silly to try to untangle the two. Perhaps the mental and physical stimulations were intrinsically tied together and trying to figure out which was which was a fruitless exercise. Even still, it didn’t stop Lan Xichen from considering it for a few moments as Jin Guangyao’s fingers rocked inside of him.

He was thoroughly distracted from the thoughts soon after though, as Jin Guangyao’s fingers pulled out, more of the slick substance was added to them, and when they were replaced... Jin Guangyao was pressing a third finger inside along the first two.

The new stretch was all Lan Xichen could really focus on as Jin Guangyao nudged his fingers in deeper, just a little bit at a time, having to press a bit harder than before to get them to fit, even as Lan Xichen let his body relax as much as possible to accommodate them. Even still... Jin Guangyao moved gently, took his time, and despite certainly feeling the tension more distinctly against his rim, Lan Xichen couldn’t say it hurt. He... was expecting it to, eventually, as even he was privy to a certain amount of gossip about such activities, but so far, even as he felt Jin Guangyao’s fingers pressing all the way inside, there was no pain.

Jin Guangyao gently lifted his face after a moment, his mouth seeking Lan Xichen’s and Lan Xichen gladly indulged him. He let out a content breath, feeling himself relax more as he fell into the now familiar rhythm of their kissing.

Time blurred; as they kissed and as Jin Guangyao’s fingers began to move more smoothly inside of him with each passing moment, Lan Xichen felt like... like he was floating, like he was hovering far about the ground, the whole world going soft and blissful for a long while as all he had to think about were the complementary movements of Jin Guangyao’s fingers and tongue. After a bit, he lifted his own hand, stroking his fingers affectionately through Jin Guangyao’s hair again.

At some point along the way, the soft bliss became tinted with an underlying urgency. As Jin Guangyao’s fingers became free to move more quickly, Lan Xichen felt his breathing increasing again and felt his cock hardening once more between their hips--he felt Jin Guangyao spread his fingers apart on a few thrusts, before finally... he slipped them out.

Lan Xichen felt his pulse rushing, the anticipation building beneath his skin, and as Jin Guangyao broke the kiss, Lan Xichen opened his eyes. He watched as Jin Guangyao settled back down on his knees, as he finally opened up his pants to free his cock, before drizzling a bit more of the oil from the jar over it, stroking it slowly a few times, the motion almost... hypnotizing in the warm glow of the candlelit room.

When Jin Guangyao looked back up at him... there was an achingly sweet smile on his face, his expression full of warmth and affection. He reached for Lan Xichen’s hip, and Lan Xichen let himself be guided forward, until he was straddling Jin Guangyao’s lap, until his hips had lowered just enough and Jin Guangyao could line the head of his cock up against his entrance.

Jin Guangyao tugged his head down a bit for a faint kiss, and told him tenderly, “Just relax, and take your time.”

Lan Xichen nodded, though he felt his cheeks flushing to realize he’d be the one in... control of their progression now, but... He could do it. He wanted this, wanted to feel Jin Guangyao inside of him, wanted... wanted Jin Guangyao to feel the same sort of pleasure he’d already given Lan Xichen twice over, because Jin Guangyao deserved that, and because... Lan Xichen cared so deeply for him and he wanted Jin Guangyao to know it. The fear of pain lingered faintly in the back of his head, but... he pushed it aside. It would be worth it, to give Jin Guangyao this.

He started to lower his hips, making sure to let out a slow exhale to keep himself relaxed... and without much fuss, the head slipped inside.

He was... caught off guard briefly, by the difference. Jin Guangyao was... perhaps the slightest bit thicker than those three fingers had been, though perhaps it was the... texture of it inside, the heat of it compared to the fingers that was most striking. A slight shiver worked through him, as he was stunned by the thought that Jin Guangyao’s cock was inside of him, and he took a few slow breaths to steady himself before continuing.

Following Jin Guangyao’s words, he did take his time. His hips lowered an inch or so at a time, before breathing, adjusting, taking in the new stretch and the strange feeling of it, which only grew stranger the deeper it pressed, particularly as it pressed past the first few inches that Jin Guangyao’s fingers had been able to reach. Jin Guangyao’s face settled patiently against Lan Xichen’s chest, nuzzling and kissing him warmly as he let Lan Xichen work at his own pace.

Then, sooner than he’d expected, Lan Xichen... found himself resting on Jin Guangyao’s lap, his cock buried completely inside. And it... it felt good. He was still adjusting to the stretch of it, to the feeling of fullness, it was still an odd sensation... but as he gave his hips the tiny roll and felt it shifting inside of him, his body shuddered with the sudden wave of arousal it caused.

Jin Guangyao pressed a kiss to his collar bone, and asked, “How is it?”

Caught unaware by the question, Lan Xichen quite accidentally blurted the thought at the forefront of his mind. “It doesn’t hurt.”

“Well... that’s good,” Jin Guangyao replied in an almost unsure tone, before asking curiously, “Did you expect it to?”

Of course, Lan Xichen realized that ‘doesn’t hurt’ wasn’t exactly the most encouraging thing he could have said in this situation and immediately felt a bit embarrassed--though perhaps feeling embarrassed just now, with Jin Guangyao’s cock seated fully inside of him, was a bit silly. Even still, he responded almost sheepishly (now wondering if he’d heard wrong, somehow), “I... heard that it hurt, the first time.”

“Oh,” Jin Guangyao said, sounding relieved as he pressed his forehead to Lan Xichen’s skin. He shook his head vaguely, then kissed Lan Xichen’s chest. “Yes, it can. If couples are... too eager to get to the act and rush into it, it can hurt,” he explained, which made Lan Xichen feel a bit less ridiculous for his fear. He kissed Lan Xichen’s chest again, letting it linger a bit longer before he added, “But it doesn’t have to.”

That... made sense, Lan Xichen supposed. And it... explained why Jin Guangyao had taken so long, opening him up one finger at a time they way he had.

Jin Guangyao’s head lifted from his chest, and Lan Xichen felt the hand on his neck gently turning his head so that their eyes could meet--where the earnest look in Jin Guangyao’s eyes was almost overwhelming in its sincerity.

“The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you,” he said with such a suddenly serious tone that it... shook Lan Xichen, almost to his core. “You’ve never been anything but kind towards me, you’ve never looked down on me. Even when everyone saw me as worthless, you... you never did. I can’t tell you how much that’s meant to me, and I... I would never want to hurt you, Er-Ge. You know that, don’t you?”

There was a hint of desperation seeping into the words, as if Jin Guangyao would be willing to beg if that was what it took for Lan Xichen to believe him, as if there was nothing he wouldn’t do to make Lan Xichen understand...

Lan Xichen couldn’t know where the sudden plea was coming from but... Jin Guangyao didn’t need to struggle to make him understand such a thing. His hand moved to gently cradle Jin Guangyao’s face, his expression softening into a compassionate smile. “I know, A-Yao,” he comforted him softly, hesitating only a second before pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“I know,” he reassured him, kissing him again as he felt a tension he hadn’t even noticed fading from Jin Guangyao’s grip on him. “Of course I know.” Lan Xichen kissed him once more, letting their lips move together for a moment, thumb stroking gently along Jin Guangyao’s jaw, before he returned the question. “And you know I feel the same, don’t you? I would never hurt you. You mean the world to me.”

In just a few short years... Jin Guangyao had become his closet confidant, his dearest friend... He was sometimes the only person in the whole world with whom Lan Xichen felt he could truly relax and... just be. And of course, Lan Xichen loved his brother, loved his uncle, but... sometimes trying to have a conversation with his brother was as strenuous as trying to translate some ancient text with an incomplete key that he’d had to put together himself... and the need to meet every one of his uncle’s lofty expectations of him was weight enough to be crushed under, a near daily torment as he was forced to consider every way in which he could turn out a disappointment, which was a torment that had only seemed to double in its intensity in the years since Lan Wangji’s divergence from his Uncle’s wishes.

Being with Jin Guangyao, being able to sit with him and chat and smile was... sometimes it felt like the only time he was actually able to breathe.

He loved him. He wasn’t sure he could say that just now, but... he knew it in his heart to be true.

The fervent expression Jin Guangyao wore seemed to soften at those words. His eyes slipped shut as he let out a relieved sigh... and when he opened them a moment later, his gaze was soft and sentimental once more. He pressed his lips up to Lan Xichen’s, and only pulled away to whisper softly, “Thank you.”

Lan Xichen felt his own lips curling a bit as he leaned back into the kiss, taking a long moment to indulge himself. When he finally spoke again, he barely parted their lips to prompt playfully, “Thank you for what?”

Jin Guangyao clearly picked up on the change in tone and huffed out a soft breath, taking the opportunity to lighten the mood. “I’m not sure exactly,” he replied, shaking his head the tiniest bit. “For... everything, I think. Or maybe,” his hand drifted down over the curve of Lan Xichen’s ass and he gave it a light squeeze as he teased, “for this?”

“A-Yao!” Lan Xichen rebutted with a touch of surprise, his tone almost-scolding, though he clearly didn’t mean it seriously as his chest shook with a soft laugh. He leaned down to kiss Jin Guangyao again to try to ignore the heat rising to his face. It wasn’t like he’d forgotten that Jin Guangyao was inside of him, but being squeezed so unexpectedly brought his attention sharply back down to the area where Jin Guangyao’s cock was filling him quite nicely, where... he’d had more than enough time to get used to the new sensation.

“What?” Jin Guangyao protested with an almost innocent grin as his hands moved to settle on Lan Xichen’s hips. He let his head drift down to press a kiss at the hollow of Lan Xichen’s throat, his voice dropping into an almost sultry tone. “Does Er-Ge not want my gratitude?”

Before Lan Xichen could be bothered to answer, Jin Guangyao’s hips rolled beneath him as his hands helped Lan Xichen roll into them, and the shift of the cock inside of him made him more concerned about sucking in a breath then trying to come up with a reply.

“Although, even if you asked, I don’t think I could stop being grateful to you,” Jin Guangyao continued, now letting his mouth trail across Lan Xichen’s collar bone. His hips rolled again, and this time Lan Xichen picked up on it only a bit too late, and he moved his own hips, though he still shivered at the resulting sensation.

“You’ve given me so much, Er-Ge,” he went on sweetly, leaning a bit forward as his mouth and kisses trailed down Lan Xichen’s chest. “Much more than I could ever say.”

When his hips moved again, Lan Xichen was ready for it, and he moved in tandem, their bodies rolling together this time, the sensation inside combining with the brush of his own cock against Jin Guangyao’s stomach.

“So perhaps I can express it better like this.” His lips finally reached their destination and wrapped around his nipple, letting the heat of his tongue drag across it.

Lan Xichen’s breath immediately stuttered, his arms taking up their perch around Jin Guangyao’s shoulders again--and as Jin Guangyao’s hips moved, and moved again, and again, creating a steady rhythm, Lan Xichen’s movements matched him, until he was rolling his body steadily in Jin Guangyao’s lap.

The pleasure was... unbelievable. Lan Xichen almost couldn’t wrap his mind around it, the motion down below causing a steady stream of ecstasy that seemed to swirl up his spine and fill his head--and it was only reinforced as Jin Guangyao’s mouth worked on his nipple, as his lips tugged at it, his tongue swirled around it, as he sucked and then eventually started to use his teeth in a motion that was making it increasingly sensitive, until the scrape of Jin Guangyao’s teeth was sending sharp jolts of pleasure down to his cock.

Lan Xichen’s breathing had gone ragged before long, and though he’d been matching Jin Guangyao’s pace, his body almost started moving on its own as he began to rock faster, jerking his hips forward and down quickly, to feel that spike of pleasure from the spot Jin Guangyao had stimulated with his fingers earlier. His head starting to spin, he let it drop to bury against Jin Guangyao’s hair, just trying to hold onto him as he felt the steady crawl of the approaching orgasm.

It must have been painfully obvious to Jin Guangyao, because as Lan Xichen’s movements became more frantic, Jin Guangyao’s movements became more pointed. He started to bite and tug a bit more urgently at Lan Xichen’s nipple, and just a moment later, his hand wrapped around Lan Xichen’s cock, starting to stroke him in time with the mounting motions of Lan Xichen’s hips.

It didn’t take long after that--Lan Xichen tried his best to keep his voice down, pressing his face against Jin Guangyao’s hair to muffle the noise, but there was little he could do to stifle the moan as the orgasm gripped him. His body rocked forward just a few more times before he felt himself tensing, the tightness of Jin Guangyao’s cock inside of him almost dizzying as he clamped down around it.

Before he even had time to come down from the high, he felt Jin Guangyao’s arm bracing behind his hips and head and the backward motion of his own body--and a second later he was on his back, and with a quick snap, Jin Guangyao’s hips were pressed tightly to his ass, his cock pushing inside even deeper than before as the stimulation forced a sudden, shocked gasp out of him.

Jin Guangyao’s head immediately lifted, an apology in his eyes that immediately bled to his lips, “Sorry.”

“No,” Lan Xichen replied quickly, dismissing the apology and urging, “Keep going.”

Not needing to be told twice, Jin Guangyao’s hips began to move again, grinding hard against him, his cock stirring around inside and making Lan Xichen’s legs naturally snap around Jin Guangyao’s waist, nearly making his vision white out--especially at the near-painful jolt as it pressed against the sensitive spot, now desperately overstimulated.

Lan Xichen heard the strain of his own half-strangled noise, and threw out a quick, “Don’t stop,” before Jin Guangyao could doubt himself again or hesitate. Jin Guangyao hadn’t come yet, and Lan Xichen wanted him to. After everything he’d done for Lan Xichen, not just tonight, but everything leading up to tonight... this euphoria was something Lan Xichen wanted so desperately to share with him that he couldn’t bear to make him stop now, not even as the overstimulation was near-devastating, the sensation walking a dangerous line between rapture and torment, something that was somehow both unwelcome and desperately needed all at once. Half of him was close to begging to make it stop while the other half was convinced that if it did stop, he’d only be begging to make it start again.

By the third brush, Lan Xichen had to pull away one of the arms desperately clinging to Jin Guangyao’s back to press his hand over his own mouth to keep from crying out as loud as his body wanted to in response to the stimulation he was receiving. His entire body was tight and his heels dug roughly into the small of Jin Guangyao’s back to make sure he wouldn’t pull away or stop; his head was pushed back against the floor, leaving the elegant line of his neck fully exposed--something that Jin Guangyao was quick to take advantage of.

His mouth latched onto a spot low on Lan Xichen’s throat; he bit down, which somehow forced Lan Xichen’s thoughts away from the turmoil of Jin Guangyao’s grinding cock. It split his focus, forced a deep breath into his lungs and knocked him out of the almost hopeless spiral that had nearly tried to pull him under.

It only took a few minutes for most of the pain to fade from the movements--the intensity was still there, he was still hypersensitive to every movement, but eventually the balance was restored, the arousal overtaking the agony and allowing him to feel less like he was about to spiral out of control. The rigidity faded from his grip as he continued to cling to Jin Guangyao, his arm collapsing away from his mouth as he got control over the sounds coming out of his throat once more.

Only then did Jin Guangyao’s pace change; his grinds began to get a little more depth, their bodies not pressed nearly so tightly together as Jin Guangyao drew back a bit more before grinding forward again... and this trend continued until the grinding had fully turned into thrusting, until Lan Xichen had a new sensation to be bowled over by as he felt the slight withdraw of Jin Guangyao’s cock before it was pressed quickly back, filling him up completely, before withdrawing again.

Jin Guangyao found his pace soon enough, and Lan Xichen slowly managed to time his exhales with every time Jin Guangyao thrust inside, the breaths sharp and noisy. After just a moment, both his arms were wrapped tightly around Jin Guangyao’s back again, this time clutching at the last remaining layer of his robes almost grateful to have something to grip as Jin Guangyao’s hips continued, as his cock thrust in over and over, and as Lan Xichen, somehow, felt the steady escalation of his arousal all over again.

Of course, it wasn’t much longer before he heard Jin Guangyao’s breathing getting heavy, felt the heat of his huffing against his skin as his mouth stayed latched onto his neck--and then Jin Guangyao’s hips began to snap a little faster, and Lan Xichen heard a soft wet smack at the end of each thrust, as it felt impossibly like Jin Guangyao’s cock was hitting even deeper than before... and then there was the faintest pause as he felt Jin Guangyao adjusting the way their hips lined up, curling Lan Xichen’s upward a bit more...

And when Jin Guangyao thrust again, Lan Xichen felt why as Jin Guangyao’s cock thrust directly into that sensitive spot and he was left gasping for air from it--the only indication Jin Guangyao needed as evidence of his accomplishment, before he accelerated into his previous pace, hips smacking together again as his breathing began to take on sound...

Lan Xichen could only half pay attention to that though, as whatever thoughts he had left were on the intense blows of pleasure, on clinging to Jin Guangyao as tightly as he could, and on not simply crying out the way his body so deeply craved to, just forced himself to pant heavy and ragged and noisy--though as he felt himself getting closer, he found himself gasping, “A-Yao, A-Yao- A-Yao.”

“Er-Ge,” Jin Guangyao rasped back, an almost hesitation in his voice, “I’m about to--”

“Come inside,” Lan Xichen replied quickly, wanting no argument, and mentally rebelling at the idea of Jin Guangyao pulling out right now, when they were both so close, when he just needed a little more...

Suddenly, Jin Guangyao surged forward, locking his lips onto Lan Xichen’s; his final few thrusts were even sharper in intensity and then--

Strangely, Lan Xichen felt it. Jin Guangyao moaned roughly against his lips and he felt.. something almost like a twitch as Jin Guangyao’s pressed into him as deeply as he could, and he felt the heat of his release inside, which by itself was enough to leave him dazed--after just a second, Jin Guangyao’s hips were grinding hard against him again, his hand moved back to eagerly stroke Lan Xichen’s cock, and a second later Lan Xichen was blindsided with his own orgasm, punctuated with a sharp moan and the background sound of tearing fabric.

A few seconds later, Lan Xichen felt all the strength sap out of him and he collapsed against the reassuringly solid floor beneath his back, while Jin Guangyao collapsed just as immediately on top of him. His face migrated into the crook of Lan Xichen’s neck as the both of them struggled for a few minutes to catch their breaths.

As his thoughts returned to him, it... really sunk in, what they had just done, what they’d just experienced together (were still technically experiencing, considering Jin Guangyao’s cock and cum very much still inside him). Before he could even help it, Lan Xichen found himself smiling, and as his heart seemed to swell with joy, the smile grew until he felt his chest shaking with a silent, gentle laugh.

Jin Guangyao must have felt his shaking, because his head lifted almost immediately... but the concern on his face faded into a faint smile once he saw Lan Xichen’s expression. His hand lifted to Lan Xichen’s jaw and he said, “That’s a good laugh, I hope.”

Lan Xichen huffed out another soft breath, his smile only growing warmer. He mimicked Jin Guangyao’s movements, reaching for his face, then leaning up to kiss him again, before he confirmed, “It is.”

He felt... happy, overjoyed, maybe more than he could ever remember feeling. After the struggle and loss and death and everything, he... he didn’t know he could feel this way. He’s not even sure he knew this sort of bliss existed until just now. He was exhausted and content and so, so in love that he could nearly cry for all that he could keep it contained within him.

He kissed Jin Guangyao again, and then again, and again... until that’s all that mattered for a little while. At some point, Jin Guangyao slid his cock out to slide up his body a bit and make kissing easier on both of them, and as the late hour settled in around both of them, their lazy, languid kissing and gently exploring hands stayed tender and non-urgent.

As Lan Xichen’s hands slid over Jin Guangyao’s back... he realized quite suddenly his fingers were moving from cloth to... skin, as they slid through a sizable tear in the back of the fabric. Lan Xichen flushed immediately as he realized that the ripping sound he’d heard earlier but hadn’t really given any thought to... was the sound of him tearing a hole in the robes.

Noticing Lan Xichen’s reaction, and the feeling of his hand directly against his back when that would otherwise be impossible, Jin Guangyao broke the kiss to venture knowingly, “You tore my robe, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Lan Xichen admitted sheepishly, thought he felt a soft, embarrassed laugh bubbling up in his chest.

Jin Guangyao huffed out his own semi-exasperated laugh and scolded, “Still can’t be trusted around laundry, I see.”

Though the smile didn’t leave his face, Lan Xichen felt himself wince internally, knowing immediately that Jin Guangyao was referring to his attempts to wash his own clothing when he’d been on the run from the Wens so many years ago. He pulled Jin Guangyao back in to kiss him again, thought he interrupted himself to ask, “How many robes did I ruin before you banned me from washing my clothes? Four?”

“Four,” Jin Guangyao repeated back to him emphatically. “We only had so many clothes that would fit you. I had to stop you or before long you would have been in hiding in the nude.”

Lan Xichen laughed quietly as Jin Guangyao kissed him again, mumbling a quiet, “I’m so sorry,” against his lips, before taking a few slow breaths to clear the laughter from his chest, before saying more sincerely, “Thank you.”

Echoing Lan Xichen’s own words from earlier, Jin Guangyao replied warmly, “Thank you for what?”

“For everything,” Lan Xichen found himself saying, understand Jin Guangyao’s earlier reply more thoroughly now than ever. There were... already so many years between them, and from Jin Guangyao sheltering him when he was on the run, to him helping him to rebuild the Cloud Recesses, to... every moment of friendship the two of them had shared... Lan Xichen wouldn’t know where to begin thanking his most precious friend. He pushed his fingers delicately back through Jin Guangyao’s hair and added, “For this.”

Jin Guangyao gave him a heart-achingly sweet smile, though the edge of his eyes almost seemed tinged with the faintest bit of sadness before he leaned in to press their lips together chastely, before agreeing softly, “Of course, Er-Ge.”

Eventually, however many minutes later, they managed to pry their mouths and bodies apart, cleaning up a bit before Lan Xichen retired to his own room to sleep. His visit this time wasn’t meant to be a long one, so after a shared breakfast, he was planning to head back to the Cloud Recesses... though before he left, he was eagerly pulled aside by Jin Guangyao into his room for a private farewell that consisted of an almost tentative kiss, until Lan Xichen happily returned it.

“Will you visit again soon?” Jin Guangyao asked him, clearly trying not to sound overeager... though if it wasn’t for Lan Xichen’s own duties as a sect leader forcing him to return home, Lan Xichen was honestly afraid he might not bother leaving at all.

“I will,” Lan Xichen replied, before, with a final long kiss, he forced himself to go.

For the whole flight back home, a smile was plastered to his face, and his thoughts were on planning his next visit to Lanling as soon as possible.

#xiyao #xiyao fanfic #mdzs fanfic #the untamed fanfic #mdzs #mo dao zu shi fanfic #vesper posts #wrote a thing

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thewickling · 3 years

Text

I had this idea floating around my head and I don't really plan on writing it but I want to release this 3zun into the ether.

Possible Tags: Canon Compliant, Arranged Marriage, Post-First Siege of the Burial Mounds, Canon Divergence - Thirteen Years of Wei Wuxian's Death, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Political Drama, Eventual Polyamorous Relationships, MDZS Compliant

Premise: Madam Jin leverages her position to marry Jin Guangyao off to a sect-rate sect to wholly cut him off from Lanling Jin's sect leader position - LXC and NMJ interfer.

NMJ discovers that XY is only imprisoned and not executed. He prepares to march to Jinlingtai and force them to correct this. He runs into Lan Xichen who is very much did you hear?

Lan Xichen informs Nie Mingjue that Madam Jin plans to marry Jin Guangyao. Tradition and everything means they can't interfer directly without some complicated sect politics fall out. Nie Mingjue doesn't really care but Lan Xichen stops him from being rash.

Obviously, the option is if one of them marries JGY. Between LXC and NMJ, marrying a male spouse has a bigger impact on Lan Xichen's reputation than Nie Mingjue's.

Nie Mingjue does the "okay so if you're looking for someone to marry JGY off to, give him to me". JGS is greedy enough to accept the better proposal.

(Why Nieyao first? If I was treating 3zun like 3 sets of equations, Nielan and Xiyao are easier to solve starting off but opening either a semi-established relations to a JGY/NMJ later is harder. Basically solve the harder line of it first and then squishing LXC seemed seem better in the long run).

You know how LXC teaches JGY the Song of Clarity to get Nieyao to bond? Well, now LXC teaches it help faciliate their marriage :3 JGY actually plays it properly because now his life is tied to NMJ's. We get a bonus, less tempermental NMJ.

There's an uneasy peace in the Unclean Realm where NMJ mostly ignores JGY and JGY tries subtly manipulate NMJ while stablizing his position within the Nie Sect.

That peace breaks when NMJ catches wind of the Jin Sect trying to suppress the Chang Clan to avoid executing Xue Yang. JGY is very obviously attempting to balance his position as a Jin as a NMJ's spouse to stop NMJ from storming Lanling. The fakeness sets off NMJ.

"Stop flitting about, Meng Yao. Don't put on an act in front of me," Nie Mingjue says, swatting the air. "Your thing stopped fazing me ages ago."

"[sic JGY's commentary on class and privilige]. Jin Guangshan would rather bring another illegitimate child back than want me to succeed him! Madam Jin would rather marry me off than allow me to remain in her household."

"Why care about their opinions? They've casted you aside," he says, crossing his arms. His gaze is sharp and harsh but Jin Guangyao cannot recall when has it last been kind to him.

He hisses, "A well fed man believes not the man who starves! I admit my face is thin. How can it be thick? No one bothers to turn their head before they remark on my upbringing."

"Become great," Nie Mingjue states so plainly it pierces. "Make it so everyone who speaks Jin Guangshan's name instead thinks it's a shame that he never acknowledged you. That Madam Jin was shortsighted to marry you off. Why must you mind others? Silence them with your ability."

"What can I achieve? The little progress I made has been thrown into disorder. Who dares deals with me? It's clear I have no support in Lanling." Jin Guangyao spits, "It's obvious to everyone that my husband married me out of obligation. That you depise me. That you rather I vanish. May I ask, how can I achieve anything under these circumstances?"

"Lan Huan clearly favors you. And you're mistaken. I wasn't forced into this marriage," he says.

"I don't know how er-ge convinced you, but it's clear. You hate me." That word slides out more of a sob than an accusation. "Da-ge, I've always wanted to asked - why can't I be forgiven? Both our hands are stained so why do you bring up my desperate actions over and over?"

"I have never raised my saber for personal gain." His brusque manner relays how self-assured he is.

"If I understand correctly, then you say all of the people you killed deserved their deaths?" he laughs, "Then you must abhor me. I can never meet your standards. My hands can never be clean. If you find me so unpleasant, why did you marry me? If I am so unforgivable, why did you ever agree to be my sworn brother?"

"Do you believe anyone can force me into a decision? Whether it was brotherhood or marriage, do you believe anyone would?" he asks, turning his chin up. "No one can make me yield. I agreed for..."

He knows himself. Nie Mingjue accepted the rites to gain some influence over Jin Guangyao. If Lan Xichen were right, there was still room to correct Jin Guangyao's course. But why did he give Jin Guangyao that second chance? Why did he offer him a third? This isn't like him.

Why are you my exception? Nie Mingjue wonders, but says, "I didn't do this to spite you."

Jin Guangyao stills. This is the most ground he's seen Chifeng-zun give to anyone. His mind re-awakens and be pounces.

He questions, "So if I follow your path and risk my ties with the Jin Sect, can we agree to put our pasts behind us and try?"

"I haven't forgiven you."

Jin Guangyao's smile stiffens. "I know. I suspect you never will, but you won't ever convince me on the merits of justice and righteousness for its own sake..."

He slows at the firm set of Nie Mingjue's jaw. He redirects. No, he disarms himself. "Merit and justice won't move me when that seems as prone to temptation as my ambition."

"Meng Yao," Nie Mingjue hisses.

"You ask me to not lie," he grasps Nie Mingjue's hand. "Abstract concepts like that... They can't convince me of anything. If I said otherwise, I'd painting my words in the way you despise."

He inhales sharply. Somehow speaking plainly tastes strange on his tongue. He struggles to arrange his thoughts. He sighs, "I will never be the marriage partner you wished for. We've both done things the other can't accept... Don't forgive me but put it in our past... We understood each other once."

"Can try?" Jin Guangyao flattens his thoughts. "Can we try? I will do my part. Promise to try to understand me?"

And accept me, he thinks, but that never leaves his throat.

Nie Mingjue steps away and it's like he's been thrown down a thousand steps again.

Over his shoulder, he states, "I'll tell Zhonghui to put the conference organization in your hands."

This is their turning point. The first time they've both faced each other and listened in years. Nieyao obviously butt heads a lot but their communication gradually improves. JGY convinces NMJ not to storm Lanling and instead let him try to convince the other sects to pressure JGS.

NMJ gives JGY until the martial conference before he'll do something himself.

LXC visits throughout this period but his force is mainly on rebuilding parts of his sect. He does help JGY convince the other sects to pressure JGS into executing XY.

LXC watches JGY and NMJ get along and at first he's happy but he quickly feels left out. When he realizes that, he becomes ashamed of himself.

Before the trio can confront JGS, he announces at the conference that XY will be executed X time and anyone he doubts his word can witness it themselves.

XY is executed. People see his face. Something about how performative it, how XY moves plans a seed of doubt in JGY but he can't figure out what is off - other than JGS wants the Tiger seal too much to give XY up so easily.

JGY is side-tracked trying to get NMJ to support his watchtower plans. When NMJ finally agrees, JGY focuses on the logistics and getting other sects on board.

We get Nieyao's relationship improving and NMJ realizes his desires first. Unlike LXC, NMJ realizes his feelings, accepts them, and then acts on them nearly instantenously.

JGY does the logical thing when finding out the da-ge that once wanted you dead is like join me in bed - he runs and visits (hides) in the Cloud Recesses for a few days under the guise of watchtower discussions.

LXC notices JGY is distracted and they talk. Upon learning NMJ cares for JGY, LXC feels a pain in his chest. He encourages JGY to act on his heart and points out how NMJ and JGY balance each other out. He obviously wishes them happiness.

JGY decides to give the relationship a chance. As NMJ and JGY's relationship becomes more sincere, LXC pulls away from them.

When LXC realizes his feelings, he struggles. He obviously can't be so terrible as break up their marriage and he can't so shameless to impose on their time insincerely. He thinks of his mother and his father and just sort of falls into a bad spiral.

Okay so while running around trying to convince other sects, JGY notices that the number of missing people has gone up. He goes to the Cloud Recesses and notices something is up with LXC. When LXC doesn't share, he becomes worried and tags in NMJ. As they both invite LXC over more and try to provide help JGY figures out why LXC is like this.

He thinks about it and decides he hasn't fallen for NMJ yet (he's fond of NMJ of course but he wouldn't call it love) and he is no more opposed to LXC than he is to NMJ. He considers his way forward.

Baixue Temple Massacre happens. JGY understands why the execution seems strange to him. XY resisted too well. XY's cultivation is even poorer than JGY - he relies entirely on yin energy. It also clicks that the missing people are because of JGS.

Extremely obviously, everyone but LLJ do an impromptu conference. JGY leverages everything that occurred to get everyone to agree to his tower plans once this over.

JGS has been hermorraging support from the other sects for a while and since JGY has been negiogating with Jiang, Lan, Yu, and other sects for awhile they all support giving Jin Sect and ultimumun and then taking him down.

Before Jin Sect push forward a scapegoat and all publically chase off and kill XY [make it unclear whether XY lives or dies].

Political manuevours make it so that Sects joint ventures will be organized by commitee instead lead by a Chief Cultivator. Jin Sect is forced to pay up for the towers.

You know how there's a limited number of bachelors? All parents with daughters realize "hey so the only big shot sect leaders left are JC and LXC" and then throw their daughters and LXC.

LXC is very very very distressed. It would be insincere of himself to marry when his heart so clearly belongs to others but it is his responsibility to secure an heir for his sect. The sooner he marries, the quicker at ease Lan QIren and the other elders would be. Perhaps he should marry to restrain the shameless desires he has in his heart. Yet he does so, that would be justice to his future wife.

Okay this is where I got stuck (again) because honestly getting LXC to realize his feelings is straightforward, getting him to act on them is hard. He will just suffer silently.

You know what [inserts the author gets to make a forceful step forward]. NMJ is annoyed by all the women surrounding LXC. JGY sees this and after much thought and consideraton decides he wants both NMJ and LXC. He does his best to guide NMJ around to the same thoughts as him.

While all the romance plotty stuff is going on and the trying to get LXC married, like literally everyone - everyone finds JGS sus. Gusu Lan, Qinghe Nie, Yunmeng Jiang, and Meishan Yu under the guise of organizing the watch towers investigate Lanling Jin. They quickly realize that even if XY isn't there that LLJ obviously still has the tiger seal so they start planning a mission to steal the tiger seal.

Their plans work out. The tiger seal is in Qinghe Nie's hands. The Jin Sect is more or less dropping out of power. The four most powerful sects shift to be Gusu Lan, Qinghe Nie, Yunmeng Jiang, and Meishan Yu.

Extremely outraged, Jin Guangshan basically is an idiot and instead of waiting for time to pass so he can regain the LLJ's reputation, he very much targets JGY and tries kill him while he's traveling to supervise the watch tower construction.

JGY goes missing.

LXC feels guilty because he was supposed join JGY but shrugged it off because he was being an angsty bean about his feelings.

Because no one else can stop, LXC is grabbed to stop NMJ from straight up going into LLJ and beheading JGS immediately. NMJ very angry and pissed questions LXC and reveals that JGY likes him and that he thought he did too but LXC like this hurts his eyes.

Cue much higher levels of angst for LXC - but since JGY is gone LXC has to play Clarity for NMJ so they have to spend time together. NMJ refuses to let LXC act he doesn't know about everyone's feelings.

Because I'm terrible planning up to the ending skips. JGS is dead. JGY has been found (but like NMJ & LXC more or less believe JGY caused JGY to die). LLJ sect is in ruins but headed by Madam Jin as regent for Jin Ling.

JC, JGY, and Meishan Yu head basically make it clear that the only reason the Jin Sect still exists is because of their mercy. The only reason they are merciful is because JL. If she dares stirs the waters, they can change things.

LXC tells their elders he doesn't plan to marry any time soon. He's still young. He's young enough that they can't really force him to marry yet. He is very much in a relationship with Nieyao - a budding one and they're still ironing things out.

So this is very choppy and not ironed out because rough outline and thinking things up as I go. Maybe this fic does exist out there somewhere.

I think one of the other reasons I don't think I'd write this is I'd want to figure out a way to leave it open for Wangxian to still happen which unless MXY is driven to summon WWX doesn't work.

#1 #2 #3 #4 #sarahyyy #technically #wick wips #but fics I'm not writing #P: 3zun #Long Post #Mostly because I don't trust Readmores on mobile

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Prompt: anything with Jiang Yanli, I’d love to see more of her PoV

part 2 of whumptober 20 (JYL/LXC field medicine)

ao3 link

It wasn’t that Jiang Yanli never thought about other men.

After all, she was a female cultivator, and her opinion was therefore one of the ones that was rather eagerly solicited when it came to naming the most attractive young masters in the cultivation world; it was only that it had never seemed to matter. After all, she was engaged, and always had been, to her mother’s dearest friend’s only son, and that, it had seemed at the time, was that.

Oh, her father spoke warmly about marrying for love and not for obligation, but Jiang Yanli had never quite understood what he meant. Even if she didn’t love Jin Zixuan, she loved her mother enough to want to respect her wishes, and it was easy enough to dismiss what negative things she’d heard about him – arrogant, self-centered, impetuous, but of course he was still young, and weren’t most teenage boys like that? – and instead daydream about the life she would have in the future.

When she was young, it was mostly daydreams of having some faceless man (she couldn’t imagine little Jin Zixuan, who at three years younger was barely more than a baby) bring her gifts and tease her and kiss her, then say she was the prettiest person he’d ever seen. The way she’d always heard was supposed to be how lovers talked, the way people said that a marriage ought to be like - the way her parents’ marriage had never been.

When she was a bit older, her thoughts drifted away from retreading romantic stories and to the actual work of being married, of being the mistress of Lanling Jin. In the beginning, her duty would be to first and foremost produce an heir and a spare, to remain healthy throughout the process, and to support her husband as he slowly began to take on the duties that would eventually become his, but later on it would get more interesting. A sect leader could not be everywhere, and his wife would often be left in charge when he was not at home – she would have to know everything about the sect, same as him, enough to make decisions in his absence; she would have to answer correspondence, make decisions, negotiate with traders, collect duties, enforce the peace, and she’d also have to manage the sect’s social scene on top of it all.

She probably wouldn’t have much time to cook, Jiang Yanli thought wistfully, thinking about how Lanling women prided themselves on never having to lift a finger for themselves, and threw herself into her favorite hobby now, while she still could. If she was clever about it, she might be able to get good enough at it that her future husband would find some dish of hers that he liked, something that only she could make, and then her cooking would be something done at his request – a charming idiosyncrasy, an indulgence of sweethearts.

When she got older still, and learned about Sect Leader Jin’s philandering and the iron grip of control Madame Jin imposed on Lanling in order to keep her position in the face of all the backstabbing and politics, she thought to herself that that sounded exhausting. But by that point, all of her childhood daydreams had Jin Zixuan’s name on them – although admittedly not his face, for all that he had grown up into one of the most handsome young men of his generation, and certainly not his mannerisms – and it was far too late to raise a fuss now. So Jiang Yanli studied willpower in addition to trade routes, learned how to exploit social norms in addition to how to manage a dinner party, taught herself how to play people just as well as she played the guqin, absorbed the lessons of both murder and mathematics, and above all figured out how to stand up for herself and what she believed in no matter what overwhelming pressure she might face.

Even though Jiang Yanli was pretty sure that Madame Jin wouldn’t appreciate that last part in a daughter-in-law, especially not one reputed to be as easygoing as her father.

(“Let her be upset,” her own mother had snorted when Jiang Yanli had tentatively raised the issue. “Are you supposed to ruin your own future because she’s a bitter old mother-in-law that’d rather not give up control so early? I may have agreed to marry you to her son, A-Li, but she agreed to marry him to my daughter. If she wanted easy and pliable, she should have thought again.”

“But she’s your friend,” Jiang Yanli had said, frowning a little. “Don’t you want her to be happy?”

Her mother had looked tired. “Once, more than anything,” she’d said. “But the chance for that passed long ago.”)

So it wasn’t that she didn’t notice other men. It was just that there was no point in allowing herself to look, and she knew enough of her parents’ marriage, and of Madame Jin’s, to not want to look.

And then, suddenly, there was.

Her engagement was broken. One could say that it happened at her own beloved brothers’ hands, at her father’s blind dislike of arrangements even when it was one his own daughter had long ago accepted and had even learned to long for, but in truth Jin Zixuan was a proper young master, old enough to make decisions for himself, to exercise some control over his own life, and the first bit of control he’d taken into his own hands was to decide that he didn’t want her.

It was – not fine, no. She spent some time crying over it, and yet more time comforting Wei Wuxian who was distraught at having caused her pain, and the most time of all quietly wondering what the point of her existence was now that she was no longer useful as a marriage tool. She’d never been much of a cultivator, never been especially pretty, never been anything more than average – what was the point of her?

Maybe that was when she’d decided to pick up medicine.

Field medicine was womanly enough to satisfy critics, and yet it was something useful in a practical sense: she could save people’s lives, if she only learned enough, and studying she could do.

Sometimes, she even got the chance to save the lives of very attractive people, like when the First Jade of Lan lay crumpled in the cot before her as she patched him up. So this is the one they ranked first, she thought, examining him with her eyes even as she kept her hands busy, and she was forced to admit that the other female cultivators of her generation had good taste. He was devastatingly handsome.

Kind, too, she soon learned; gentle and courteous in his mannerisms. He smiled often, which she appreciated in a person (if one interpreted Jiang Cheng’s scowls as smiles, he smiled nearly as much!), and he seemed to genuinely admire her efforts at medicine, however rudimentary. Over dinner, which he insisted on sharing with her even after he was well on his road to recovery, the conversation between them flowed easily and well: they both had brothers they loved, which was a conversation topic of which neither of them would ever tire, and they both enjoyed art and music. He didn’t know the first thing about cooking, but enjoyed asking questions (especially after she’d made him a meal he particularly enjoyed, which was often), while she enjoyed the way he blushed when she teased him.

She didn’t think much of it, of course. If she couldn’t keep the husband that had been promised to her since before she could walk – if she was too dull, too plain, too weak, too average to be worthy of an untried young man like him – then she definitely had no hope of catching the most attractive and capable young master of their generation, a dashing war hero and sect leader in his own right.

And then, when they were both laughing over an especially hair-brained scheme they’d concocted to try to get Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian to spend more time together – Jiang Yanli had noticed how much Wei Wuxian talked about Lan Wangji once he’d returned to the Lotus Pier, and Lan Xichen swore up and down that Lan Wangji had been no better – he turned to her and said, “If you were in Gusu, your brothers would be sure to come to visit you.”

“Me, in Gusu?” Jiang Yanli was startled into a laugh. “Why would I be in Gusu? As your guest?”

Lan Xichen coughed. “I had been hoping for something – a bit more permanent than that. If that would be something you would be open to.”

It actually took her a moment to understand, and then she had to raise her hands to cover her suddenly burning cheeks.

“You don’t have to say anything now,” he said hastily. “Just something to think about, if you’re interested…and of course, if your heart is elsewhere –”

“It isn’t,” she blurted out, and had to turn away.

“I’d hoped that was the case,” he said quietly, his voice warm. “I’ll take my leave, Mistress Jiang.”

Jiang Yanli had grown up thinking of herself as the future mistress of Lanling Jin, with its riches and its beauty and its poisonous heart, and then she’d assumed she’d be nothing at all, an old maid that helped Jiang Cheng manage his sect until he finally found a wife to suit him.

She’d never thought about being the mistress of Gusu Lan.

Gusu Lan, which was not as wealthy as Lanling Jin but just as complex – with its own trade routes and subordinate sects and business to manage – with its beautiful and serene landscape, its culture that emphasized harmony and unity rather than backstabbing – with no overbearing mother-in-law that would have barely been tolerable even when her own mother would have been there to hold her back, but would have been impossible without such protection –

She hadn’t dreamt of Lan Xichen as a child, or even as a teenager, but when she thought about all those dreams with a faceless man that she’d named Jin Zixuan regardless of any similarity to the real thing…

Lan Xichen fit in much better to the idea in her head than the real Jin Zixuan ever had.

“I won’t live separately,” she told him when he came over the next day, before he could even say a word; it had been just about the only problem she could see with his proposal. “In another house, certainly, but not an entirely different dwelling, and if I have any children, I would want them to live with me regardless of their gender.”

“I wouldn’t dream of having you so far away,” he said, and he was smiling again, broad and bright and – somehow, impossibly – hers. “Might I kiss you?”

“You may,” she said, and he did.

“Mistress Jiang,” Lan Xichen said a moment later, “you’re the most remarkable woman I’ve ever met.”

Remarkable, Jiang Yanli thought to herself, was better than pretty any day.

#mdzs #jiang yanli #lan xichen #field medicine #no. 20 #my fic #my fics #macgyvertape

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ibijau · 4 years

Text

Jin Rusong Lives / On AO3

Lan Xichen breaks

The first few weeks, Lan Xichen tried to hold strong and pretend nothing had changed. His sect needed him. There was so much to do. Juniors to teach. Night Hunts to organise. Disciples to supervise.

He lived, then, with the constant feeling that it wouldn't take much to break him.

The conviction he wouldn't break. Not if he tried hard enough.

Gusu Lan deserved better than another sect leader too weak to live with the consequences of his choices. His uncle deserved better than to be forced again into a role that wasn't his. Lan Wangji deserved…

Lan Wangji deserved what he finally had.

Lan Xichen tried not to think too much about that. The memory of Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian in that temple always added a crack or two to the armour on which he relied, and he couldn't afford to shatter.

He wouldn't shatter.

He refused to shatter.

He shattered anyway.

Sect leader Yao had come to discuss the possibility of sending some guest disciples to the Cloud Recesses for the year to come.

Sect Leader Yao had come to get in the good graces of the man who killed Jin Guangyao.

As they sat in his office, Lan Xichen tried to pay attention. He found it harder and harder lately. That days, his eyes fell on shelves of books containing rules to live by, or commentaries on those rules. Commentaries of those commentaries. A whole library to tell him how to live, most of which he knew by heart, and still he had made every mistake.

There were too many things in his office.

Calligraphies and paintings, gifts to a man he had never managed to be.

Gifts from men he had never managed to know.

When sect leader Yao left, he would take everything down. Bare walls for a bare mind.

His uncle, who hardly left his side lately, threw him a concerned look. Lan Xichen forced himself to return to the present. This could wait. Everything could wait.

"It's what I said to a friend the other day," sect leader Yao said, never noticing how little attention the other two men paid him. "We are lucky that Zewu-Jun was there to do the right thing. Who else would have stopped Lianfang-Zun? Nie Huaisang?"

He laughed.

Lan Xichen felt a new crack appear on the surface of his soul, deeper and larger than any of the previous ones.

Sect leader Yao didn't know. Nobody knew. By the time they had arrived, it was over. Nothing had remained but that sealed coffin, and blood on Shuoyue. Lan Xichen had refused to explain. So had Jiang Wanyin and Jin Ling. Nie Huaisang had left already. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji long gone as well. And so, others were free to imagine their own stories.

It had not yet occurred to Lan Xichen that in those stories, they might mistake him for a hero.

"I wonder how Nie Huaisang will even have the face to show himself in public," sect leader Yao continued. "To have been so dependent on his brother's murderer… even that night at the discussion conference, he was still begging for Jin Guangyao’s help. I wouldn't be surprised if he stepped down from power. It's the least he should do, and who'd miss him?"

Another crack.

Lan Xichen felt some fragment of himself crumble and fall. He focused on breathing and smiling.

He had to smile.

If he smiled, if he stayed calm, everything would be fine.

He had to smile.

"Perhaps Lan zongzhu should consider offering himself as the next chief cultivator," sect leader Yao suggested. "I'm sure we could all stand behind the man who pursued the fleeing tyrant and rid us of him!"

Lan Xichen took one breath.

He took another.

He choked on the third one, and shattered.

His uncle, who had been watching him closely, gave some excuse to sect leader Yao (a lie, he lied, and this too was Lan Xichen’s fault) before grabbing Lan Xichen by the arm to pull him away.

Lan Xichen followed, powerless to resist. He let his uncle push him in bed, but found himself unable to understand the words said to him. The tone seemed soothing. He did not deserve that, but accepted it anyway.

He had always been selfish like that.

The months that followed were a blur.

Lan Xichen tried, the first day after, to rise up and do his duty.

He had to.

He should have.

He couldn't.

His body was lead, his mind heavier still.

He only moved when his uncle came and made him, forcing him to swallow some food and put on less restricting clothes.

Lan Xichen wanted to apologise.

His tongue too was lead, and he couldn't utter the words.

For a long while, days passed the same. His uncle would visit twice a day to check on him and take care of him. Lan Qiren rarely spoke. Lan Xichen wouldn't have managed to listen. He thought, vaguely, that something must have been put in his tea to keep him calm, so he wouldn’t crumble any more than he already had that day. It was the only ways he could explain the constant fog in his mind, the way he could barely form any thoughts.

He didn’t mind.

It didn’t matter.

In that state he was in, nothing could matter anymore.

After some time, Lan Wangji returned to the Cloud Recesses.

This, too, did not matter.

It couldn’t matter.

It shouldn’t have mattered.

But Lan Wangji was not a man to forget what kindness and cruelty had been done onto him. His brother, once, had forced him to live and go on when he had reached his own breaking point. Whether that had been kindness or cruelty, neither of them had known at the time. Now again, Lan Xichen couldn’t have said which sentiment pushed his brother to take care of him.

Cruelty seemed a more likely candidate.

Because the first thing Lan Wangji did, upon returning, was forbid that any more drugs be given to his brother to keep him calm. And so Lan Xichen was forced to do what he had avoided so long, and face what he had done.

Like his father before him, he had let himself be seduced by honeyed words, and protected a murderer. A weakness that ran in their family, it seemed. A weakness that ran in Lan Xichen’s blood certainly, since he had allowed himself to be so thoroughly fooled not only by Jin Guangyao, but also by Nie Huaisang. He should have known better. On both matters, he should have known better. Nie Mingjue had warned him time and time again about Jin Guangyao. Nie Mingjue who had trusted him with his life, and Lan Xichen had given his murderer everything he needed.

As for Nie Huaisang…

Lan Xichen should have known better. Should have seen the deception.

He should have.

He hadn’t.

There had to have been signs.

There couldn’t have been signs.

Lan Xichen had done his best, and he had done his worst. He had believed in those around him, and he had closed his eyes to their true nature. He had fought for peace, and he had settled for hidden chaos.

Lan Wangji, who visited him nearly daily, listened to his ramblings in silence, giving neither judgment nor absolution. Lan Xichen would have rejected both, but he appreciated the patient ear offered to him. And so, he confided in his brother as he had never done before, just as Lan Wangji had once confided in him when he was delirious and broken from the pain of the disciple whips.

Every time he was done speaking for the day, Lan Wangji would offer to play a song of healing for him.

Lan Xichen refused for weeks on end.

It was unreasonable. He knew that much.

Lan Wangji must have known it as well, offering day after day, without any pressure, without relenting either.

Revenge for the way Lan Xichen too had been at his side day after day when Wei Wuxian had died.

They had patience, both of them. Lan Xichen knew his brother and him could have reached immortality, and in a thousand years Lan Wangji would still visit him and offer to play with him, because he wasn’t a man to give up on those he loved.

That Lan Wangji still loved him after all this was a terrifying realisation.

Soon after understanding this, Lan Xichen finally agreed to having music played to him.

Like this, things started to improve at last. The guilt didn’t go away, but it became manageable in a way that it hadn’t been before. Lan Xichen, slowly, started asking for news of their sect. He managed to find sparks of joy in hearing about the progress of certain juniors he’d had an eye on, and dared to give advice on some small problems that Lan Wangji ran by him. There was a sense of peace to be found in the fact that he still knew how to help with these things, that this much at least had been real skill on his part.

It took many more weeks before Lan Xichen finally dared to ask about the affairs of the world, and for the first time Lan Wangji showed hesitation. He had always been a poor liar, and worse still at hiding from his brother. This too brought Lan Xichen a sense of peace. This too was still a skill he had.

Lan Wangji gave him some sparse news, clumsily trying to hide details he did not wish to share, leaving Lan Xichen to guess for himself what was happening. It seemed smaller sects were trying to use the current political situation to grab a little more power, a little more territories. They were particularly aggressive in their dealings with Lanling Jin. At least, so Lan Xichen understood. Lan Wangji had let it slip that Wei Wuxian had spent a great amount of time with his nephew recently. But with the terrifying Yiling Patriarch and the far scarier Sandu Shengshou on his side, Jin Ling would do just fine in the end. As for the smaller sects, they would settle down. The same thing happened every time something rocked the big sects, but in the end everything always calmed down. Lan Xichen was not worried.

It would be fine.

The sects would be fine.

And Lan Xichen, pointedly, did not ask about the last great sect when his brother did not volunteer any information.

This he was not ready to face yet.

Slowly, over time, Lan Xichen started tiring of his house. He was not ready yet to face the world at large, not when he could still feel the cracks in his soul threatening to rip open once more when he allowed himself to think of certain events, certain people. But he had always been an active man, and staying cooped up inside this way could only be tolerated for so long.

The strict curfew of the Cloud Recesses played in his favour. He was free to walk around at night, as long as he was careful to avoid the usual path used by disciples patrolling.

He avoided, as well, any area bearing too many memories. Gardens he had walked in with Jin Guangyao as they discussed politics, halls in which Nie Huaisang’s laughter or tears still rang. Lan Xichen had never realised how good his memory was, until he was forced to run from it.

The safest place, the one where he encountered the least ghosts, what the space around the junior’s quarters. He had never had any reasons to meet Jin Guangyao or Nie Huaisang there, but he had many pleasant memories with the children he had taught over the years. However much he had failed in other matters, at least this Lan Xichen had done well. He was not quite as beloved a teacher as Lan Wangji, but he had still helped those young ones grow into skilled cultivators. It was something to cling to, when everything else felt unsure.

It was there that, one night, long after the bell for curfew, Lan Xichen discovered two boys having a chat in front of the dorms. Not just any boys, either, but one of Lan Wangji’s personal protégés, Lan Jingyi, and none other than young Jin Ling in person, who Lan Wangji had mentioned was visiting. For some reason, it amused Lan Xichen to have stumbled upon this bit of innocent mischief, two friends having a secret meeting in the night, arguing quietly about some thing or other.

Curiosity for the private affairs of others went against the rules of Gusu Lan, because it so often led to gossip.

Still, Lan Xichen couldn’t help himself. It had been too long since he had heard that sort of easy chatter. Missing it for himself, he thought there would be no harm in spying in on others enjoying that sort of companionship. He hid in the darkness near where the two boys were chatting, and listened.

“I wish I could go see him,” Lan Jingyi grumbled. “He must be so bored all the way up there in Qinghe!”

“He didn’t say anything about missing you,” Jin Ling sniffed, earning a shove. “He didn’t! And also, this is a secret mission, so of course you can’t go there. With how much you shout, you’d blow their cover in a second!”

“I can be quiet!” Lan Jingyi shouted, making both of them wince and fall silent as they waited to see if they’d be discovered. Lan Xichen had to refrain a chuckle. “I really can be quiet,” Lan Jingyi grumbled after a moment, much lower now. “And I wish they’d let me go with them. It's boring here on my own."

Them, Lan Xichen guessed, had to mean Lan Sizhui and Wen Ning. Lan Wangji had told him that the boy he now openly called his son left some months prior on a special mission, the details of which he declined to share. Lan Xichen did not ask. If his brother did not volunteer details, he had to have his reasons.

"So, how is he, anyway?" Lan Jingyi asked.

"I just told you he's fine."

"Not Sizhui, you idiot. Your cousin, how is he?"

Jin Ling shrugged.

"A-Song is doing okay. Better than I remembered him, honestly."

Hidden in the darkness, Lan Xichen forgot how to breathe.

A-Song?

"It must be so weird," Lan Jingyi remarked. "Especially for him. You go to sleep and when you wake up everyone is older, that's messed up. Your whole family is messed up, little mistress."

"Shut up," Jin Ling snapped. "And anyway, at least he seems happy. He's got all these friends and he's running all the time… It's so weird, I never realised back then that he wasn't allowed to run."

Lan Xichen felt his knees buckle under him, and had to lean against the side of the building.

A Jin child forbidden from running, and that name…

He shook his head. A foolish thought, and one that risked shattering him again if he thought about it for too long. It couldn't be. He had seen his body, taken his pulse.

Unaware of his distress, the two boys continued chatting.

"I can't believe your uncle took him to Qinghe," Lan Jingyi commented, in that judgmental tone they had never managed to train him out of. "What if Nie zongzhu kills him?"

"Then I'll kill him too!" Jin Ling retorted. "But I guess uncle knew what he was doing. He always does. And A-Song does look very happy over there. And he has Nie Huaisang completely wrapped around his finger, it's embarrassing. A-Song just needs to look at him, and he'll pick him up immediately like he isn't big enough to walk! And also…"

Unable to stand it one moment more, Lan Xichen walked up to the boys, staggering as badly as if he'd drunk wine.

Seeing him come closer, Jin Ling paled, while Lan Jingyi hurried to meet him with open arms, as if fearful he might fall otherwise.

"Zewu-Jun, are you unwell?" he cried out. "Do you want us to go get Hanguang-Jun?"

Lan Xichen ignored him, his eyes on Jin Ling only. The boy looked worried, with a particular expression that Lan Xichen had seen often enough on his face to recognise it.

Jin Ling sweated guilt.

"What was that about A-Song?" Lan Xichen asked.

Lan Jingyi, still trying to help his sect leader stand upright, tensed violently. As for Jin Ling, the usually bold boy grew paler still, as if he were confronted by a ghost or a demon rather than a man.

"Zewu-Jun, you shouldn't be here," Lan Jingyi insisted, trying to pull him away. "I'll take you back to the Hanshi, and then I'll go warn Hanguang-Jun that you're not well."

"I'm perfectly fine," Lan Xichen retorted, which even he knew to be a lie, but after everything else he had done, what was a lie? "Jin zongzhu. What was that about your cousin?"

Jin Ling did not answer right away, appearing torn in a way that already felt like an answer, though one Lan Xichen wasn't sure he understood.

The boy hesitated so long that Lan Xichen almost repeated his question. Before he could, Jin Ling looked up at him, proud and challenging as only a Jin would dare to be.

"Jin Rusong is alive," he announced, his voice ringing too loud in the silence of the Cloud Recesses. "And at the moment, he's living in Qinghe."

"Jin Ling, no !" Lan Jingyi exploded, but it was already too late.

Without thinking, Lan Xichen tore himself from the boy's grasp and, for the first time in his life, ran inside the Cloud Recesses.

He ran until he reached his home, where he grabbed Shuoyue for the first time since that day he shattered. Even after so long, it was easy to jump on it, just as easy as breathing in fact, and requiring as little thought.

It was a long way from the Cloud Recesses to the Unclean Realm. Lan Xichen had rarely done the trip without breaks, and on those rare occasions he had been at the height of his health, not weakened from months of isolation. And yet every time he thought of stopping, his mind rebelled against the idea.

If he stopped, he would realise how stupid this was. A tasteless prank from a boy who had every reason to hate him.

If he stopped, he would remember that he had been there when Jin Rusong was found, that Jin Guangyao himself had confessed to murdering his son, just as he had murdered so many others.

If he stopped…

He did not stop.

Not until he reached the gates of the Unclean Realm, exhausted and aching but ready to fight his way in.

He didn't have to, though. When the guards recognised him, they lowered their sabres, whispering something among themselves, about permissions and exceptions and whether they should get Nie Funyu or directly warn their sect leader.

If he had been in a normal state of mind, Lan Xichen would have explained the reason for his presence and patiently waited for their decision.

If he had been in a normal state of mind, Lan Xichen wouldn't have been there.

While the Nie disciples were still arguing over how to handle the situation, Lan Xichen simply ran inside. He knew exactly where Nie Huaisang lived, having been there so many times in the past. He knew also about the trinkets that the man he once called his friend kept around the entrance, knew from Nie Huaisang’s own confidence that they were there to alert him against unwanted visitors. Lan Xichen, even half delirious from lack of sleep, knew that he was very much unwanted there, so he walked carefully about the flower pots. He still failed to see a windchime which rang when his head hit it, startling him enough that he tripped and made some of the pots fall.

Figuring there would be no surprise on his side, Lan Xichen gave up and went straight to the door, opening it without bothering to knock.

From inside Nie Huaisang stared at him, and just like Jin Ling some days prior, he looked as if he were seeing a ghost.

He looked, also, tired in a way that Lan Xichen understood too well. In spite of everything that had come to pass between them, Lan Xichen felt an old pity surge again inside him. Acting on sheer instinct he took a step forward, only for Nie Huaisang to move away, eyes widening in fear as he tightened his grip on the sabre he was holding, his body tensing for a fight.

It answered a number of questions that Lan Xichen wouldn't have dared to ask.

It did not matter.

Nothing mattered, except…

"I want to see him."

“It’s the middle of the night, he’s sleeping,” Nie Huaisang immediately retorted.

Hearing those words, Lan Xichen almost collapsed.

What Nie Huaisang should have done was asking who Lan Xichen was talking about, or worse yet mocking him for falling into this obvious trap. This would have made sense. But if Nie Huaisang knew who he meant, then it was real somehow.

“So it’s true?” he gasped. “But he… I saw it. I saw him. A-Yao confessed!”

Something shifted in Nie Huaisang’s expression, his fear giving way to something much worse, something that might have been disdain or pity. He put away his sabre, and took a step toward Lan Xichen.

“So they didn’t tell you, uh?” Nie Huaisang sighed. “It’s… complicated. But he’s alive. He’s really alive, and he’s doing very well. He… he’s been asking for you, actually. Nearly daily.”

“I need to see him.”

Nie Huaisang pinched his lips, a calculating expression on his face. It was one that he had often enough as a boy when deciding what fights with his brother were worth the hassle, one that Lan Xichen hadn’t seen in years, not until that split second after he asked him if Jin Guangyao had really moved to threaten them.

“It’s very late, Er-ge,” Nie Huaisang pointed out, which was true of course, and Lan Xichen knew his request would be denied, but he needed, he needed… “You’ll have to be quiet,” Nie Huaisang ordered. “If you wake him… well, don’t.”

And just that easily, Nie Huaisang motioned for Lan Xichen to follow him into a side room. It used to be one where Nie Huaisang displayed his collection of fans, Lan Xichen vaguely recalled as he walked through the door. But there were no more fans on the walls, and instead plenty of toys on the floor, as well as a bed large enough for an adult, into which a small shape was bundled into covers, nothing but a little face peeking out.

At the sight of that face, Lan Xichen broke into silent tears.

Last time he had seen Jin Rusong, the child’s face had been dark, making it almost beyond recognition save to those who knew him best. Yet there he was, relaxed and warm and breathing.

Alive.

Jin Rusong was alive.

Overwhelmed by this realisation, Lan Xichen did not resist when Nie Huaisang pulled first on his sleeve, then on his hand to lead him out of the child’s bedroom. His fatigue, which he had held off for so long, started catching up with him. He thought Nie Huaisang was telling him something, perhaps plans for the morning, but none of it registered. Lan Xichen did vaguely realise he was being pushed into a bed though, for which he would have been grateful if he’d had the strength.

He fell asleep quickly, almost the instant he laid down, with only one last thought on his mind.

Jin Rusong was alive, and perhaps there was still hope left in this world.

#lan xichen #nie huaisang #jin rusong #mdzs #xisang #the only reason there's a chapter with lxc's pov is because I wanted to have that moment of realisation that others completly misunderstood #what happened in the temple and think lxc orchestrated it :)#not sure that chapter bring anything else to the table but also I do enjoy torturing lxc ok?#jau writes #jin rusong lives

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ibijau · 4 years

Text

Burn it down AU // on AO3 // extras on AO3

Everyone goes to Carp Tower, only for more questions to be raised.

It became a game of sorts for Wei Wuxian to make what he appeared to believe was an outrageous demand and see if Lan Wangji would give in. Most of the time, he did. There was no harm in letting Wei Wuxian swallowing as much spice as he pleased, as long as nobody else took from his bowl (Nie Huaisang did sometimes, on a dare, and always regretted it). Lan Wangji simply had to request that the kitchens make the appropriate purchases, and paid for it from his own funds since it would have been inappropriate to use sect money for personal matters.

He was more cautious about letting Wei Wuxian drink, since his body was young and unused to it, but since Mo Xuanyu had not been a heavy drinker, Wei Wuxian easily reached his limit anyway. If he tried to push too far, Lan Wangji mercilessly took whatever alcohol they had around at that moment and poured it all in front of the Jingshi.

Other things were easier. He was only too happy to let Wei Wuxian have paper and ink, or to give him access to the library whenever he wished. It was a little sad, really, that Wei Wuxian seemed to treat these very basic things as if they were unbearable whims, though after the restrictions of Yiling, it made some sense. Still, Lan Wangji had fought his own sect and been brought near his breaking point by the discipline whips for the man he loved. A little paper was nothing.

Usually Wei Wuxian kept that game for moments when they were alone. Once or twice he slipped in front of A-Yuan who did not even notice, since he was used to asking for what he needed and getting it. It also happened once in front of Nie Huaisang who, for reasons unknown, found it impossibly funny. He grinned all the rest of that evening, while Wei Wuxian refused to meet anyone's eyes and went to bed shockingly early.

Aside from that odd evening, Lan Wangji's happiness was near perfect. Or it would have been, of not for the presence of Xue Yang hidden away in a remote corner of the Cloud Recesses, and the worry that Jin Guangyao might find his crimes had not gone unnoticed. Over a month after returning to the Cloud Recesses, they still had not figured out how they might try to steal back Nie Mingjue’s head.

That problem became all the more urgent when a letter arrived from Carp Tower, bearing invitations to Qin Su's birthday.

Lan Xichen, as soon as he opened that letter, requested that the other three join him in the Hanshi to discuss the situation. They all sat around a table as they had done many times in the past month, this time with a darker mood surrounding them at the perspective of what they might not be able to avoid any longer. The invitation, after all, was not for Lan Xichen alone. Jin Guangyao had heard that Nie Huaisang was currently in the Cloud Recesses, and asked for his presence as well. More surprisingly, Lan Wangji and A-Yuan too had received their own invitations, with a reminder that Jin Rulan and Jin Rusong would be delighted to finally meet the little boy who, in a manner, was almost a cousin to them. Qin Su was a gentle woman, but also a stubborn one who did not easily give up once she had decided on something.

This demand for A-Yuan's presence made the matter more complicated. Without it, this upcoming birthday might have been the perfect chance to enter Carp Tower and attempt to retrieve the last proof of Jin Guangyao's crime. But even without needing to say it aloud, all four men agreed that they did not like to risk A-Yuan's safety.

And yet, there was an air of deep thoughts on Nie Huaisang's face as he read the invitation again and again, and it promised nothing good.

“What if…” Nie Huaisang started, only to interrupt himself to look up at Lan Xichen who, after some hesitation, sighed and nodded. Nie Huaisang too sighed, as if the encouragement displeased him, and resumed. “What if we took the invitation? All of us, Wei Wuxian passing for a servant and… and A-Yuan too.”

Lan Wangji tensed, but said nothing.

“It would give us a good excuse to go there a few days before the other guests arrive,” Nie Huaisang explained quickly, sensing that his idea was unpleasant to everyone. “Xichen will be there to help Jin Guangyao, it’s nothing out of the ordinary at this point. I’ll help Qin Su watch over the children as they play together. And so will you, Wangji, at least officially. In truth, the first chance we get of having both Qin Su and Jin Guangyao properly distracted, you and Wei Wuxian can make your way into the Fragrant Palace and see if you can figure out the secret of that mirror.”

“It is risky,” Lan Wangji noted.

“Not so much, not with your reputation and Wei Wuxian's capacity to improvise a story. We do have other proof anyway, if it really comes to that, but we can’t lose more time, sooner or later Jin Guangyao will hear about Xue Yang, or Xue Yang himself will try to escape, and…”

“It is risky to bring A-Yuan into Carp Tower,” Lan Wangji corrected.

To his credit Nie Huaisang immediately nodded, glancing again toward Lan Xichen who placed a hand on his shoulder.

“That’s why I’d stay with Qin Su and the children, why Xichen would be trailing Jin Guangyao,” Nie Huaisang insisted. “I don’t want anything to happen to A-Yuan either. And if… if you refuse, I’ll understand. If you refuse, you’ll have to stay here with A-Yuan, we’ll find an excuse, say he’s unwell. It’d be too odd for you to take the invitation yet refuse to bring A-Yuan, Jin Guangyao would see it as an insult and pay too close attention to us. But I think Wei Wuxian should come either way, he’s good at figuring out how things work, if anyone can find a way to Jin Guangyao’s secret room, it’s him. You have to choose, Wangji.”

It was a cruel choice to force upon him, although at least Nie Huaisang had the kindness not to say it out loud: Lan Wangji could either keep his son away from Jin Guangyao, or he could be at Wei Wuxian’s side when he entered the house of his enemies.

“Nie xiong, are you any better at fighting than you were as a boy?” Wei Wuxian asked bluntly. “Because unless you have improved a lot in the last few years, you saying you’ll protect A-Yuan isn’t as reassuring as you think.”

Nie Huaisang pouted, which was an answer in itself.

“Nobody would dare touch A-Yuan without a direct order from Jin Guangyao, knowing he is kin to me,” Lan Xichen pointed out with great calm, “and I will not leave him for a moment. I will kill him the instant he threatens my nephew, be certain of this.”

This much Lan Wangji believed easily, just as he was certain that Nie Huaisang would throw himself between A-Yuan and danger without hesitation, even if it should cost him his life. All four of them adored that little boy, all four would do anything to keep him safe.

Lan Wangji still felt like a monster when he gave in and agreed to take A-Yuan to Lanling.

However the adults felt about going to Carp Tower, A-Yuan was delighted to be included in this trip. He was impossibly excited to start packing, and asked many questions about Jin Rusong and Jin Rulan. He was a little disappointed to hear that they were younger than him, but still seemed happy at the perspective of making new friends and visiting a new place.

The only thing that came to dampen his enthusiasm was when the adults had to explain that he would have to pretend not to be close to ‘Mo Xuanyu’ while they would be there.

“Mo gongzi will come with us, but we’re going to say he is working for me,” Nie Huaisang explained. “There are people in Carp Tower who do not like him, but we really, really don’t want to leave him alone here, so we are going to say he works for me and call him by a different name.”

“That’s a lie!”

“Yes, but it’s just for this once. It’s important, it’s very important. It has to be a secret, A-Yuan. You think you can keep the secret with us?”

“Like when I dreamed of…” he glanced toward Lan Wangji, and his voice lowered to a murmur. “The dreams of fire and the other gege?”

While Nie Huaisang nodded solemnly, Lan Wangji felt the air knocked out of him at the idea that his son and his friend had been keeping secrets from him. He could easily guess what sort of dreams would have involved fire and an unknown man, and he’d always known that A-Yuan suffered from intense nightmares for the first few years of his stay in the Cloud Recesses. But it was odd and unpleasant to think that his son might have trusted Nie Huaisang with this rather than him.

At least, when A-Yuan promised to keep this secret, Lan Wangji knew that his son could be trusted. After all, he had never once suspected that the child had any memory left of his time in Yiling.

It was rather awkward to arrive in Carp Tower and be greeted so warmly by Jin Guangyao and his wife, knowing they had come here for the express purpose of causing his downfall. The man seemed genuinely happy to see them, and expressed sincere concern when Nie Huaisang explained that he had come with a doctor he had hired after some health concerns in recent months.

“You do seem much better than you had been lately,” Jin Guangyao agreed, inviting them to follow him as he personally guided them to their rooms, his wife following at his side. “I thought it was only the pressure of ruling still affecting you, was there something else?”

“There was an issue with his Qi circulation,” Wei Wuxian said in a forcefully gruff voice. “He was getting close to a deviation. We’re getting that under control.”

Jin Guangyao glanced at him with a blank, polite smile. It was obvious that he was curious about this short man whose face was half hidden by bandages, but Nie Huaisang had come up with a story that his personal healer had been disfigured by an illness when he was too young to cultivate, and chose to hide. Most cultivators were uncomfortable with scars, since they were rare for them, and so it was not too outlandish that a person would rather keep them away from sight.

“Well, I’m glad to hear this,” Jin Guangyao said. “Although I wish you had told me, Huaisang. We have many healers attached to our sect, I could have found you someone from the start.”

“But I already trouble San-Ge so much!” Nie Huaisang mumbled, his voice trembling slightly. “I always trouble everyone, if I keep asking for help, one day it’ll be too much and you’ll be tired of helping and you’ll all drop me.”

Jin Guangyao frowned. “Huaisang, that”s…”

“We won’t!” A-Yuan exclaimed, grabbing Nie Huaisang’s leg and hugging it tight. “We all love you, Nie-Ge! If you’re unwell, please tell us.”

The adults around him fell into silence at this outburst. Nie Huaisang looked particularly awkward, as if unsure whether to continue his act or comfort A-Yuan by telling him he did not actually fear being abandoned.

Standing next to her husband, Qin Su was the first to recover, smiling warmly at the child.

“Sect Leader Nie, what a delightful little boy you have,” she said. “You and Hanguang-Jun have done a great job raising such a filial son, you can be proud. I hope my son and nephew grow to be this good as well. I cannot wait for them to meet you, I’m sure the three of you will be great friends.”

“I’m very happy to meet them too,” A-Yuan politely replied, still firmly hugging his step-father’s leg. “I hope we all get along. When am I going to play with them?”

Qin Su exchanged a look with her husband, the two of them having a silent conversation before she smiled again.

“I think you and your family might want to rest a little and change after the trip,” she told A-Yuan. “Then we can all have lunch together. You will meet A-Xiao and A-Ling at that moment, and then you can play together after eating. Would that please you?”

A-Yuan nodded enthusiastically, and with some probing, finally let go of Nie Huaisang. After that it was a short trip to the rooms where they would be staying. Once there, Lan Xichen quickly changed into clean robes, washed his face from the dust of travelling, and headed out again immediately to see how he could help Jin Guangyao with organising his wife’s birthday party. He did not seem particularly happy with the perspective of being alone in his sworn brother’s company, but by his own admission, it would have been odd if he didn’t behave in this exact way. Before he left, Nie Huaisang took his hand and squeezed it in a comforting gesture, the only one they could allow themselves in front of others.

Once Lan Xichen was gone, the three remaining adults also got changed into more suitable clothes and helped A-Yuan do the same. It was then only a matter of sitting around and resting a little until the call for lunch came. Rest, however, was maybe asking too much. A-Yuan was too excited about the idea of meeting potential new friends, and the grown-ups were too nervous about their plan, so none of them really relaxed. It was a relief when at last, a servant came to tell them that lunch was ready to be served.

Whatever other misgivings he had about the situation, Lan Wangji had to admit that the encounter between the three children went well. A-Yuan, as could be expected of him, was the perfect image of politeness as he bowed before the other two, and his radiant smile appeared to daze them.

“I am Lan Yuan,” he announced. “And my courtesy name is Lan Sizhui. It is a pleasure to meet you both.”

Jin Rusong, who was still young and clearly a little shy, could only stare in apparent awe, half hiding behind his cousin. It could have quickly become a little awkward, but Jin Rulan was thankfully a bolder child and had no problem taking over the introductions for their side.

“I’m Jin Ling,” he stated. “And this is Jin Xiao, courtesy name Jin Rusong. We’re very happy to meet you.”

“What’s your courtesy name?” A-Yuan asked.

“I don’t like it,” Jin Rulan exclaimed, “so nobody can use it.”

“A-Ling, we’ve talked about this,” Jin Guangyao intervened with an awkward chuckle. “You have to tell people your courtesy name. It is not proper to force everyone to call you by your personal name.”

Jin Rulan crossed his arms on his chest. “Uncle Jiang says it’s ok. He says my courtesy name is stupid and I don’t have to use it.”

Jin Guangyao looked positively horrified by that statement, but not surprised, so Lan Wangji guessed it was not the first time they were having this argument. Of course, with Jin Rulan often being sent to spend time in the Lotus Piers, it was unavoidable that the child’s personality would be tainted by his other uncle.

“Well, I don’t mind calling you Jin Ling,” A-Yuan said. “It’s pretty. Are we going to sit all together?” He turned to his father. “Am I allowed to speak during meals here?”

“Quietly,” Lan Wangji agreed, knowing it would be hard to enforce that rule away from home and in the presence of other children who had no reason to be silent.

The meal went well, as far Lan Wangji was concerned. He was not asked to speak much, unlike Lan Xichen who found himself in deep conversation with Jin Guangyao, and Nie Huaisang who happily chatted with Qin Su about a number of inconsequential subjects. Lan Wangji, for his part, found himself exchanging many glances with Wei Wuxian who appeared deeply amused by the situation and clearly struggled not to make any comments. It said a lot about his dedication to helping that he remained silent, actually. That, or he feared that Lan Wangji would simply silence him if he said anything.

After lunch, Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen quickly excused themselves again and disappeared together. Qin Su offered that the rest of them go in the gardens so the children could play freely, and the idea was of course accepted. They all settled in a pretty corner of the vast gardens, not far from the main buildings so that servants and attendants could still easily find their mistress and ask for her input on this and that detail for the upcoming party. Nie Huaisang sat near her and happily gave his opinion here and there, as long as it was not on anything more important than floral arrangements or who could be trusted to sit near sect leader Yao and not murder him out of annoyance. Meanwhile the three children, after some initial hesitation over what games to play, were running around together quite happily.

After a while of simply being there, silent and steadfast, Lan Wangji rose from the bench on which Wei Wuxian and him were seated, and announced that he was going to retire for some meditation. Qin Su looked a little sorry, possibly because she took it as a slight against her skills as a hostess, but she did not try to stop him. It was quite well known that Lan Wangji was not a very sociable person, and hopefully she understood he had already made an effort by staying this long.

“I’ll come with you,” Wei Wuxian announced, still disguising his voice. “I have to prepare some remedies for sect leader Nie.” He bowed before Qin Su. “Madam Jin, I leave my patient in your hands.”

“And I’ll make sure he behaves,” she amiably replied. “Won’t you, sect leader Nie?”

“I’ll do my best,” Nie Huaisang laughed.

Acting satisfied with that promise, Wei Wuxian also stood up and followed Lan Wangji away from the gardens.

It would have been easy to get lost in a place like Carp Tower. Thankfully, before coming, Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang had drawn for them a rough map of the place, which Wei Wuxian had easily memorised. They started by heading out in direction of their room to avoid raising suspicion, but at the first opportunity they took a turn toward Jin Guangyao’s private residence.

Of course as soon as it was safe to do so, Wei Wuxian started chatting. Considering how long he had managed to stay quiet, Lan Wangji could not begrudge him this. Still, he wished a different subject might have been picked.

“Really, Sizhui?" Wei Wuxian teased. “What sort of a name is that? Did you let Nie-xiong pick that name, for it to be so dramatic?”

“I chose it,” Lan Wangji confessed, a little embarrassed. In truth, Nie Huaisang too had teased him for naming his son “to recollect and long for”, and even Lan Xichen had raised an eyebrow at it. His only defence was that he had been asked to find a courtesy name soon after the engagement had been announced, when he had only just been given A-Yuan back, so that he could be put on the official registry, and… he had not been in a very good emotional state at the time, both aching over Wei Wuxian’s death and fearing a marriage forced upon him.

Without surprise, Wei Wuxian laughed at the admission.

“Lan Zhan, you’re really too much sometimes. Poor child, did you want him so badly to someday remember where he came from?”

Lan Wangji only hummed in answer.

If Wei Wuxian wanted to believe that, he was not going to say otherwise. If the name Sizhui had been embarrassing when he had thought Wei Wuxian lost to him for ever, then it was simply shameful now that the man was back with them. Lan Wangji had tried to live without regrets since losing the man he loved, but this dramatic name might be one of the few he had.

It was a relief when they arrived near the Fragrant Palace and had to be quiet again.

The entrance was guarded of course, but it wasn’t hard to simply enter through the gardens. Clearly, the sect leaders of Lanling Jin felt confident that nobody would reach them this far inside their sect. Once inside, they had to avoid being seen by the occasional servant, but thankfully most of the staff was busy with preparations for the party. In the end, it was easy enough to find Jin Guangyao’s bedroom.

It was easy, as well, to find the copper mirror. Xue Yang had told them it was huge and ostentatious. He hadn’t lied: the mirror was a little taller than Lan Wangji, and large enough that both of them could easily stand in front of it with room to spare. Even if it had just been a mirror it would have been worth a fortune, exactly the sort of luxurious display one might have expected from the sect leaders of Lanling Jin.

Wei Wuxian got to work. Before all else, he checked for any sort of safety measures protecting the mirror, but found none. However that secret passage worked, Jin Guangyao appeared to have full trust in it being unbreachable. A trust that wasn’t unjustified because no matter what Wei Wuxian tried, he simply could not get the passage to open.

“There’s something though,” he grumbled after another failed attempt. “I can feel it. I need to think, what could be so infallible?”

Given enough time, Lan Wangji was convinced Wei Wuxian would figure it out. But time was not an endless resource, and it was getting late. They would soon need to make their exit and regroup with the others. Hopefully they would get other chances in the coming days, but it was disheartening that a solution hadn’t been found yet.

“It’s reacting to something,” Wei Wuxian muttered, kneeling in front of the mirror and pressing his hands against the surface to better feel whatever magic powered it. They would need to clean it before they left, Lan Wangji realised. “Maybe I’m not powerful enough? This body is so weak… Lan Zhan, come closer please, I want to try something.”

Lan Wangji dutiful obeyed, and following the other man’s instructions, pressed his hands against the mirror’s surface.

“Do you feel it?” Wei Wuxian asked. “It’s like a buzzing in my hands.”

“I feel nothing.”

“Really? That’s odd. I wonder…”

“What’s going on here?” asked a voice behind them.

Both men startled and turned to look at Qin Su who gaped at the sight of two strangers in her private apartments. She seemed too shocked to cry out for someone to help, but that wouldn’t last and Lan Wangji steeled himself to use the Lan silencing spell on her. From this there would be no going back. But in truth, just from having been found there, they could not back down. They needed to go inside that passage that very day, or risk giving Jin Guangyao a chance to get rid of evidence.

“Madam Jin, we have a perfectly legitimate reason to be here!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. “Please don’t create trouble, we aren’t here to harm you!”

“Your voice is… just who are you?” she retorted. “Does sect leader Nie know about this?”

The second question was directed more at Lan Wangji who hesitated on how to answer. Lying would be wrong. Saying the truth could only be used a last resort. Stuck between two unpleasant options, he elected to simply ignore the question.

“We are currently investigating serious accusations that have been made against Lanling Jin,” he explained. “Although it is distasteful to act in shadows, the accusations are such that we could not bring them to light without proof. We believe such proof can be found in the room behind the mirror.”

Qin Su startled. “You know about that room? Who told you?”

“Considering the circumstances, Madam Jin will understand we can’t give that name,” Wei Wuxian replied. “Isn’t the fact we know there’s such a room enough to show that we aren’t here at random? And since we know about it, perhaps Madam Jin might let us know how to open it?”

“Only my husband can.”

“It is important,” Lan Wangji insisted. “We would not be here if there was another choice.”

Qin Su smiled weakly at him.

“Hanguang-Jun, you misunderstand me,” she sighed. “When I say only my husband can open this passage, I mean it. This mirror is built in such a way that it will only react to a direct descendant of its creator, who was a previous Jin sect leader.”

"Well, that's inconvenient," Wei Wuxian grumbled. "Is there really no other way…"

"My husband once told me that even Xue Chengmei could not trick the mirror when Jin Guangshan offered him the chance to try," Qin Su explained, her smiling growing a little more confident. "Seeing as breaking and remaking artefacts was his speciality, I feel it is safe to say the mirror's magic is quite secure."

Calling this inconvenient did not even begin to cover it. Lan Wangji had no illusions about Jin Guangyao’s willingness to allow them inside. To have come so close only to fail…

"Madam Jin, aside from this, do you know how to get the passage open?" Wei Wuxian abruptly asked.

"I have seen my husband do it."

"Perfect. Then show us, please."

"I've told you…"

"Yes, yes, but… Madam Jin, you are aware that your father-in-law had many children out of wedlock, aren’t you? I happen to be one of them. And if your husband can open it, then clearly the mirror doesn't care about legitimacy, only about blood."

Qin Su paled at the reminder, her lips pinched in distaste as she tried to look through the bandages hiding Wei Wuxian's face. Lan Wangji had heard it said that, mild and even tempered as she was, Qin Su did not tolerate anyone trying to speak in her presence about her husband’s origins. She had fought her own parents about it, and it was the one issue on which she was willing to get angry.

"I suppose that's true,” she conceded, “but still…"

"We do not ask lightly," Lan Wangji intervened. "If the situation were not so dire, we would not be here. If we are wrong, we will accept the consequences, but certain things must be verified."

Qin Su did not look particularly impressed with that statement. Although Lan Wangji's reputation had somewhat recovered from his actions in Nightless City, it would take a while longer for people to forget he had chosen to side with Wei Wuxian that day. That he would associate himself with one of Jin Guangshan’s bastards, none of whom had ever been judged worthy of remaining in Carp Tower, could not help.

"Very well," Qin Su sighed. "For your brother's sake, because I know Zewu-Jun would not allow injustice to be carried out. But I will come inside with you. I hope you understand."

Lan Wangji nodded, while Wei Wuxian bowed. It was already more than they would have expected. Lan Wangji wondered if perhaps the young woman was curious about this secret passage inside her home. Even this easy going woman would have had to wonder about something so mysterious.

“Move back,” she ordered, before she placed her hands on a specific spot on the mirror's frame. “Here, there is this notch here where you must press while sending an impulse of energy.”

Committed to the task, she demonstrated the movement and the impulse while Wei Wuxian watched like a hawk, obviously fascinated by the process. When everything was over and they were freed from this investigation, Lan Wangji was sure the other man would try to recreate this technique.

“And that’s it,” Qin Su concluded. “Of course, as I’ve said, only a descendant of that Jin sect leader may do it. For anyone else, it won’t work. I suppose you’re about to see if you truly are of Jin Guangshan’s blood. Otherwise…”

To show what would happen if Mo Xuanyu’s blood wasn’t enough, Qin Su brought her hand to the mirror’s surface, ready to lean against it.

She nearly lost her balance as her hand went right through and cried out in shock, only barely managing to grip the mirror’s edge before she could fall through the passage.

#xisang #wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #nie huaisang #mdzs #jau writes #burn it down au

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